[first things] PG-13: Anakin/OC
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. I'm just playing around, not making any profit.
Author's note: Quick'n'dirty, a comfort fic for darth_eldritch 's bad day.
[first things]
“Mmm.” The feel of Anakin’s fingertips trailing over her bare skin is almost enough to induce Ryn to open her eyes; still sleepy, she settles for curling tighter under the covers and humming her appreciation.
“Good morning,” Anakin murmurs, not quite laughing.
“Hrrrmph.”
He does laugh, then. “Come here, you.”
He pulls her against his body, shifting to wrap arms and legs around her so she’s completely enveloped in his hug, ducking his head to nuzzle her shoulder when she giggles. “How are you feeling?”
She takes his hand in hers and pulls it down to rest on her belly. “Not as active as your little one.”
She can feel Anakin’s smile. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.”
“We’ve done it once,” Ryn points out.
“I know, but it’s just ... wow.” He kisses the curve of her neck. “I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy.”
Ryn laughs, settling into his embrace. “You just have low standards.”
“Hush,” he admonishes her, mock-stern, and Ryn snorts and runs her hand over the back of his arm.
“Unnnh,” he says, appreciative of the affection. He starts tracing light circles over the stretched skin of her abdomen, little tickles of his touch an the Force that ease the aching tightness there. “You want to sleep in this morning? I’ll bring you breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He levers himself up on one elbow, shifting her off his shoulder in the process, to peer at her in concern. “Morning sickness back?”
“No,” Ryn says, threading her fingers in his. “I’ve just got better things to do than sleep. Or eat breakfast.”
“Huh?” She can just see the edge of Anakin’s scowl at this angle. “Were we going somewhere today?”
“Uh-uh.” Ryn shakes her head against his arm. “Not what I had in mind.”
Anakin huffs a breath, exasperated. “Then what did you have in mind?”
Ryn snorts. “If you can’t figure it out, I’m not going to tell you.” Literally, because of the contract. But it’s easier to make a game of it, somehow. And over the years she’s made a sort of bargain with herself: she won’t break her vow by asking him for anything, but she won’t make her desire - her love - for Anakin a secret, either. From time to time she feels uneasy about this, vaguely guilty as though it’s half-cheating, but on the other hand there was nothing fair about her deal with the Council in the first place. Life is not fair. So Ryn plays a little dirty, sometimes.
Anakin drops back to the pillow, trying to work it out. “Can I get a hint?”
“Nope.” Ryn snuggles closer, settling her hips against his groin. “You don’t need one.”
“What do - oh. Oh.” He leans over to get a look at her face. “Yeah?”
Ryn stifles a laugh, because his sudden inarticulacy is proof that he’s figured it out. “Yeah,” she agrees, hearing the amusement in her own voice. “If you want.”
“If I ...” Anakin buries his face in her shoulder, tugging her over. “What do you think?”
Ryn laughs again and pushes him gently away. “I can’t exactly lie on my back,” she reminds him.
“Oh. Right. Right. Here.” He lifts her in both strong hands, lying back to settle her on top of him. “Good?”
“Very good,” she assures him. “Does this mean you want to skip foreplay?”
“I - what? - no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Anakin protests, instantly chagrined. “I just ...”
“Sh, it’s okay,” Ryn tells him, running her fingers over his bare chest. He’s extraordinarily beautiful, for man. “Do you want me to just do something for you?”
“I - no!” He pushes her hands away and sits up against her, looking offended. “I just wanted to find you a comfortable position.” The last half of that sentence comes out muffled because Ryn is kissing him.
Ryn speaks between kisses: “I ... sleep ... on my ... mmm ... side,” she reminds him. This is her best strategy so far: give Anakin all the information, and let him figure out what’s really going on.
It takes him a minute, maybe because he’s busy kissing her throat.
“Oh,” he says, when the pieces fall into place. “Right. Yeah.”
He pulls her down with him - almost ridiculously gentle, cradling her to the mattress and then into his arms. Ryn wraps one leg around his waist and lets him settle against her, both of them shuddering a little at the contact.
“Sh ... guh ... Ryn, that’s ... oh ...”
“Love you,” Ryn whispers into his mouth, hitching herself a little higher so she doesn’t have to stretch quite as much.
“Mmhmm,” Anakin says, which Ryn takes to mean you, too.
“Mama!” says a voice in the hallway. “Daddy!”
They groan in unison. “Jinn’s awake,” Ryn says, unnecessarily.
“Yeah.” Anakin disentangles himself and starts to get up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
“What? But she’s going to want -”
“I’m going to put her back to bed.”
Ryn glances outside, at the morning light, and thinks of her always-energetic daughter. “How?”
“I’ll think of something,” Anakin says, grouchy but determined. “Just ... stay here. And be naked when I get back.”
Ryn leans back against the pillow, grinning, and gives him a lazy two-fingered salute. “Yes, sir!”
Anakin’s smile - so much like his daughter’s - lights up the room. “Stay,” he reminds her one more time, and leaves to coax some cooperation out of their firstborn.
Author's note: Quick'n'dirty, a comfort fic for darth_eldritch 's bad day.
[first things]
“Mmm.” The feel of Anakin’s fingertips trailing over her bare skin is almost enough to induce Ryn to open her eyes; still sleepy, she settles for curling tighter under the covers and humming her appreciation.
“Good morning,” Anakin murmurs, not quite laughing.
“Hrrrmph.”
He does laugh, then. “Come here, you.”
He pulls her against his body, shifting to wrap arms and legs around her so she’s completely enveloped in his hug, ducking his head to nuzzle her shoulder when she giggles. “How are you feeling?”
She takes his hand in hers and pulls it down to rest on her belly. “Not as active as your little one.”
She can feel Anakin’s smile. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.”
“We’ve done it once,” Ryn points out.
“I know, but it’s just ... wow.” He kisses the curve of her neck. “I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy.”
Ryn laughs, settling into his embrace. “You just have low standards.”
“Hush,” he admonishes her, mock-stern, and Ryn snorts and runs her hand over the back of his arm.
“Unnnh,” he says, appreciative of the affection. He starts tracing light circles over the stretched skin of her abdomen, little tickles of his touch an the Force that ease the aching tightness there. “You want to sleep in this morning? I’ll bring you breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He levers himself up on one elbow, shifting her off his shoulder in the process, to peer at her in concern. “Morning sickness back?”
“No,” Ryn says, threading her fingers in his. “I’ve just got better things to do than sleep. Or eat breakfast.”
“Huh?” She can just see the edge of Anakin’s scowl at this angle. “Were we going somewhere today?”
“Uh-uh.” Ryn shakes her head against his arm. “Not what I had in mind.”
Anakin huffs a breath, exasperated. “Then what did you have in mind?”
Ryn snorts. “If you can’t figure it out, I’m not going to tell you.” Literally, because of the contract. But it’s easier to make a game of it, somehow. And over the years she’s made a sort of bargain with herself: she won’t break her vow by asking him for anything, but she won’t make her desire - her love - for Anakin a secret, either. From time to time she feels uneasy about this, vaguely guilty as though it’s half-cheating, but on the other hand there was nothing fair about her deal with the Council in the first place. Life is not fair. So Ryn plays a little dirty, sometimes.
Anakin drops back to the pillow, trying to work it out. “Can I get a hint?”
“Nope.” Ryn snuggles closer, settling her hips against his groin. “You don’t need one.”
“What do - oh. Oh.” He leans over to get a look at her face. “Yeah?”
Ryn stifles a laugh, because his sudden inarticulacy is proof that he’s figured it out. “Yeah,” she agrees, hearing the amusement in her own voice. “If you want.”
“If I ...” Anakin buries his face in her shoulder, tugging her over. “What do you think?”
Ryn laughs again and pushes him gently away. “I can’t exactly lie on my back,” she reminds him.
“Oh. Right. Right. Here.” He lifts her in both strong hands, lying back to settle her on top of him. “Good?”
“Very good,” she assures him. “Does this mean you want to skip foreplay?”
“I - what? - no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Anakin protests, instantly chagrined. “I just ...”
“Sh, it’s okay,” Ryn tells him, running her fingers over his bare chest. He’s extraordinarily beautiful, for man. “Do you want me to just do something for you?”
“I - no!” He pushes her hands away and sits up against her, looking offended. “I just wanted to find you a comfortable position.” The last half of that sentence comes out muffled because Ryn is kissing him.
Ryn speaks between kisses: “I ... sleep ... on my ... mmm ... side,” she reminds him. This is her best strategy so far: give Anakin all the information, and let him figure out what’s really going on.
It takes him a minute, maybe because he’s busy kissing her throat.
“Oh,” he says, when the pieces fall into place. “Right. Yeah.”
He pulls her down with him - almost ridiculously gentle, cradling her to the mattress and then into his arms. Ryn wraps one leg around his waist and lets him settle against her, both of them shuddering a little at the contact.
“Sh ... guh ... Ryn, that’s ... oh ...”
“Love you,” Ryn whispers into his mouth, hitching herself a little higher so she doesn’t have to stretch quite as much.
“Mmhmm,” Anakin says, which Ryn takes to mean you, too.
“Mama!” says a voice in the hallway. “Daddy!”
They groan in unison. “Jinn’s awake,” Ryn says, unnecessarily.
“Yeah.” Anakin disentangles himself and starts to get up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
“What? But she’s going to want -”
“I’m going to put her back to bed.”
Ryn glances outside, at the morning light, and thinks of her always-energetic daughter. “How?”
“I’ll think of something,” Anakin says, grouchy but determined. “Just ... stay here. And be naked when I get back.”
Ryn leans back against the pillow, grinning, and gives him a lazy two-fingered salute. “Yes, sir!”
Anakin’s smile - so much like his daughter’s - lights up the room. “Stay,” he reminds her one more time, and leaves to coax some cooperation out of their firstborn.