(no subject)
Title: Touch
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Jaina Solo, Jag Fel
Prompt: #38 -- Touch
Word Count: 376
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Just a bit of mindless fluff. Unbeta’ed, but thoroughly proofread by myself.
It wasn’t often that he was able to sneak up on her, so every time it happened, he relished the moment, grabbing her waist from behind and smirking when she jumped in surprise.
“Jag, you startled me.” Her words were barely more than a whisper as she took his hands in hers and brought them around to rest on her stomach. She twined their fingers together and leaned back against Jag’s chest as he tightened his embrace, leaning his cheek against her hair. She felt so small and fragile in his arms, but he knew that she was anything but.
“What’s wrong, Jaina?” he asked softly, idly tracing circles on her stomach with his fingertips.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied, just as quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” Jag questioned, shifting his head and burying his face in the loose hair that fell down the side of her neck and over her shoulder. It was as soft as shimmersilk and tickled his nose.
“I was just thinking,” she started, disentangling one of her hands from his and using it to reach up and play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, “and wondering how I would tell my husband that I’m carrying his child.” She took his hands and pressed his palms flat against her lower abdomen.
For the first time, Jag noticed a slight roundness there that hadn’t been there a few days ago. Underneath that roundness, underneath Jag’s hands, his child, their child, was growing in Jaina’s womb.
Jag kissed the bare flesh of Jaina’s neck and felt the shudder that coursed through her body at his touch. He pulled her closer still, his hands covering her belly protectively. When he spoke, his lips brushed against her neck with every word.
“I would be more concerned with how we’re going to rouse your father after he faints when we tell him the news,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
Jaina laughed then, clear and beautiful, and Jag’s heart soared. He could not recall a time in his life when he had been so full of joy.
“I love you, Jaina Fel.”
“And I love you back, flyboy of mine.”
End
My Big Damn Table
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Jaina Solo, Jag Fel
Prompt: #38 -- Touch
Word Count: 376
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Just a bit of mindless fluff. Unbeta’ed, but thoroughly proofread by myself.
It wasn’t often that he was able to sneak up on her, so every time it happened, he relished the moment, grabbing her waist from behind and smirking when she jumped in surprise.
“Jag, you startled me.” Her words were barely more than a whisper as she took his hands in hers and brought them around to rest on her stomach. She twined their fingers together and leaned back against Jag’s chest as he tightened his embrace, leaning his cheek against her hair. She felt so small and fragile in his arms, but he knew that she was anything but.
“What’s wrong, Jaina?” he asked softly, idly tracing circles on her stomach with his fingertips.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied, just as quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” Jag questioned, shifting his head and burying his face in the loose hair that fell down the side of her neck and over her shoulder. It was as soft as shimmersilk and tickled his nose.
“I was just thinking,” she started, disentangling one of her hands from his and using it to reach up and play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, “and wondering how I would tell my husband that I’m carrying his child.” She took his hands and pressed his palms flat against her lower abdomen.
For the first time, Jag noticed a slight roundness there that hadn’t been there a few days ago. Underneath that roundness, underneath Jag’s hands, his child, their child, was growing in Jaina’s womb.
Jag kissed the bare flesh of Jaina’s neck and felt the shudder that coursed through her body at his touch. He pulled her closer still, his hands covering her belly protectively. When he spoke, his lips brushed against her neck with every word.
“I would be more concerned with how we’re going to rouse your father after he faints when we tell him the news,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
Jaina laughed then, clear and beautiful, and Jag’s heart soared. He could not recall a time in his life when he had been so full of joy.
“I love you, Jaina Fel.”
“And I love you back, flyboy of mine.”
End
My Big Damn Table