FIC: Armor (M+)
Jan. 13th, 2010 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pronkerTitle: Armor
Author: pronker
Time: ROTS
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas and make no money from this fanfiction.
Summary: Padmé welcomes home her warrior.
Warnings: Pregnant sex.
IOIOIOIOIO
"I'm afraid I'll hurt the baby."
Padmé had waited forever for this reunion. She didn't think she had it in her to seduce him. She wanted him now. "Don't be. Two-One-Bee said we could do this almost until the end. Please." He wasn't moving fast enough. He didn't understand how she had burned for him for months, but then, how could he?
"Like this?" He pulled her hair away from her neck, draping it in two ropes past her cheeks, hiding her blush of passion. He kissed her nape, her shoulderblades, ruching the nightdress up and off, flicking away the shimmersilk to drape on the lamp nearest the fountain. She didn't think he had used the Force to aim it so well. In the distance, she knew that Coruscant's civic guardians were shoveling and rescuing and extinguishing the last of the fires from yesterday, making the city-planet as livable as it could be while Grievous still preyed upon the galaxy. But on her privacy-screened, soundproof veranda, another fire burned incandescent.
"Yes, but more," she said over her shoulder. "I want you inside me." It was the utter truth. He lifted her knee to the fountain's seating edge and she took the hint, allowing herself to be helped into a position that was best for what she needed from him right now. She knelt and then dropped to all fours, feeling the fountain's mist settle on her face and wrists, cooling a pregnancy's perennial overheated sensation. That was good, almost as good as when he guided himself slowly into her with one hand and cupped her breast with the other, the glove roughening her nipple like the med-droid practiced with her to ready her breasts for a baby's demanding pull. She moaned.
He pulled out as fast as he flew his starfighter. "Are you all right?" She could feel him standing stock-still behind her, not moving, not putting out the fire.
"'M all right ... don't be afraid of hurting me, I said that I'll let you know if you do, just don't stop ... ah, yes ... mmmm .... " He plunged in again and then out, rubbing himself all around before docking into port once more. She moved clumsily, she thought, unlike the last time she had done this with him on leave, when she hadn't told him about the pregnancy and let him wonder why she was a wild woman. That night had almost ended in disaster when his interest flagged from the shock of her unbridled actions and she had had to call on all her expertise to make him rise to the occasion once more. He's timid with me at times. It's precious and at the same time, irritating. She wouldn't allow tonight to be threatened in the same way; for one thing, she hadn't the energy at this late stage of her condition to crank him up again. "I'm not going to uhhhm break, Obi-Wan."
Stars' end, she wanted me to put on my armor, why .... never mind. He had to admit, the white of his armor and the white of her back glistening in the lamplight was pleasing to his aesthetics. He reared up from where he had been leaning to cuddle her swollen belly and looked down as far as he could without disengaging. The moon of her ass jostled forward and back inside his tabard's flap and he couldn't see, he couldn't and he very much wanted to. In order not to startle her, he moved his black-gloved hand from where it smoothed circles on her flank and shoved aside the flap. There, he could see now, black gription suit on his thighs, pale cock disappearing and reappearing into dripping folds. He had to look away to avoid coming immediately. It was eerie, seeing flames on the horizon of Galactic City, that is, where there weren't towers of smoke, devoured briskly by pollutant-eater droids with whirling siphons. It was some industrial waste burning in The Works, probably.
Much better, I'm almost there, I don't need soothing you're right where I want you just deep enough keep going keep going ... Padmé's arms tired and she sagged down to her elbows, resting her forehead on misty marble. She wet her lips on the condensation there, almost kissing the Nabooan stone in homage to its service tonight, but just then Obi-Wan tipped over the edge from rhythmic harmonics to atonal jizz. Her hair flew over her face, a shroud on her shriek of surprise as he jerked her half-kneeling again, one gauntlet on her hip to press her against him even harder, the other sliding without pause under the curve of Anakin's child or is it Obi-Wan's, oh stang I don't know, Mama always said it doesn't matter after you are married as it threaded through thick curls made thicker by pregnancy's hormones. She felt the fingers tremble in their repression to Not Hurt so badly that they were missing the mark. She smiled and her smile became an aria as she pressed one hand on top of his and came. The fire went out.
Obi-Wan choked out something that ended in ughn as he dropped to his knees, valiant even in this extreme as he clapped a hand on her leg to keep her from swooning onto the veranda's tiles with him. He kept the hand there, quivering like a whistlewhite as it fluttered from one flameflower bloom to the next, pollinating all unawares. He looked at his friend's wife, pleasured into a gasping sprawl not twelve centimeters from his face. He squeezed her calf. "Are you all right?"
Padmé thought so; her insides had gone rock-solid at the crucial moment as they had been doing recently, but then they had relaxed again, so nothing interesting was starting up. She couldn't move a muscle, not even to squeeze his hand when he ran it from calf to waist to wrist, testing her pulse. She was afraid he was going to shake her, so she answered before he could. "I am fantastic. You were fantastic." The armor which had played a large part in her lonely fantasies had been just the right touch, cool on her skin as it wicked away any of his sweat before it could make her even hotter than she felt these days. She thought she might have died if that had happened; the armor was to protect not just herself, but one who couldn't speak up in its own defense for a long time. The baby kicked from under her ribs and then went back to doing that fluttering thing that the med-droid said was hiccups.
Obi-Wan found enough strength to chuckle as he tucked away his fire extinguisher. "Thank you. I aim to please."
IOIOIOIOIO
The End.
Author: pronker
Time: ROTS
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas and make no money from this fanfiction.
Summary: Padmé welcomes home her warrior.
Warnings: Pregnant sex.
IOIOIOIOIO
"I'm afraid I'll hurt the baby."
Padmé had waited forever for this reunion. She didn't think she had it in her to seduce him. She wanted him now. "Don't be. Two-One-Bee said we could do this almost until the end. Please." He wasn't moving fast enough. He didn't understand how she had burned for him for months, but then, how could he?
"Like this?" He pulled her hair away from her neck, draping it in two ropes past her cheeks, hiding her blush of passion. He kissed her nape, her shoulderblades, ruching the nightdress up and off, flicking away the shimmersilk to drape on the lamp nearest the fountain. She didn't think he had used the Force to aim it so well. In the distance, she knew that Coruscant's civic guardians were shoveling and rescuing and extinguishing the last of the fires from yesterday, making the city-planet as livable as it could be while Grievous still preyed upon the galaxy. But on her privacy-screened, soundproof veranda, another fire burned incandescent.
"Yes, but more," she said over her shoulder. "I want you inside me." It was the utter truth. He lifted her knee to the fountain's seating edge and she took the hint, allowing herself to be helped into a position that was best for what she needed from him right now. She knelt and then dropped to all fours, feeling the fountain's mist settle on her face and wrists, cooling a pregnancy's perennial overheated sensation. That was good, almost as good as when he guided himself slowly into her with one hand and cupped her breast with the other, the glove roughening her nipple like the med-droid practiced with her to ready her breasts for a baby's demanding pull. She moaned.
He pulled out as fast as he flew his starfighter. "Are you all right?" She could feel him standing stock-still behind her, not moving, not putting out the fire.
"'M all right ... don't be afraid of hurting me, I said that I'll let you know if you do, just don't stop ... ah, yes ... mmmm .... " He plunged in again and then out, rubbing himself all around before docking into port once more. She moved clumsily, she thought, unlike the last time she had done this with him on leave, when she hadn't told him about the pregnancy and let him wonder why she was a wild woman. That night had almost ended in disaster when his interest flagged from the shock of her unbridled actions and she had had to call on all her expertise to make him rise to the occasion once more. He's timid with me at times. It's precious and at the same time, irritating. She wouldn't allow tonight to be threatened in the same way; for one thing, she hadn't the energy at this late stage of her condition to crank him up again. "I'm not going to uhhhm break, Obi-Wan."
Stars' end, she wanted me to put on my armor, why .... never mind. He had to admit, the white of his armor and the white of her back glistening in the lamplight was pleasing to his aesthetics. He reared up from where he had been leaning to cuddle her swollen belly and looked down as far as he could without disengaging. The moon of her ass jostled forward and back inside his tabard's flap and he couldn't see, he couldn't and he very much wanted to. In order not to startle her, he moved his black-gloved hand from where it smoothed circles on her flank and shoved aside the flap. There, he could see now, black gription suit on his thighs, pale cock disappearing and reappearing into dripping folds. He had to look away to avoid coming immediately. It was eerie, seeing flames on the horizon of Galactic City, that is, where there weren't towers of smoke, devoured briskly by pollutant-eater droids with whirling siphons. It was some industrial waste burning in The Works, probably.
Much better, I'm almost there, I don't need soothing you're right where I want you just deep enough keep going keep going ... Padmé's arms tired and she sagged down to her elbows, resting her forehead on misty marble. She wet her lips on the condensation there, almost kissing the Nabooan stone in homage to its service tonight, but just then Obi-Wan tipped over the edge from rhythmic harmonics to atonal jizz. Her hair flew over her face, a shroud on her shriek of surprise as he jerked her half-kneeling again, one gauntlet on her hip to press her against him even harder, the other sliding without pause under the curve of Anakin's child or is it Obi-Wan's, oh stang I don't know, Mama always said it doesn't matter after you are married as it threaded through thick curls made thicker by pregnancy's hormones. She felt the fingers tremble in their repression to Not Hurt so badly that they were missing the mark. She smiled and her smile became an aria as she pressed one hand on top of his and came. The fire went out.
Obi-Wan choked out something that ended in ughn as he dropped to his knees, valiant even in this extreme as he clapped a hand on her leg to keep her from swooning onto the veranda's tiles with him. He kept the hand there, quivering like a whistlewhite as it fluttered from one flameflower bloom to the next, pollinating all unawares. He looked at his friend's wife, pleasured into a gasping sprawl not twelve centimeters from his face. He squeezed her calf. "Are you all right?"
Padmé thought so; her insides had gone rock-solid at the crucial moment as they had been doing recently, but then they had relaxed again, so nothing interesting was starting up. She couldn't move a muscle, not even to squeeze his hand when he ran it from calf to waist to wrist, testing her pulse. She was afraid he was going to shake her, so she answered before he could. "I am fantastic. You were fantastic." The armor which had played a large part in her lonely fantasies had been just the right touch, cool on her skin as it wicked away any of his sweat before it could make her even hotter than she felt these days. She thought she might have died if that had happened; the armor was to protect not just herself, but one who couldn't speak up in its own defense for a long time. The baby kicked from under her ribs and then went back to doing that fluttering thing that the med-droid said was hiccups.
Obi-Wan found enough strength to chuckle as he tucked away his fire extinguisher. "Thank you. I aim to please."
IOIOIOIOIO
The End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-14 04:54 am (UTC)And this is just the delicious kind of wrong it's pleasant to enjoy on a long summer afternoon. *smirks*
Summer! Swimming, beaching, SPFing, ogling... ahhh. It's 40F here.
Date: 2010-01-14 05:21 am (UTC)It's in the high 20'C to 30'C here. We can laugh together at those poor sods snowed in!
Date: 2010-01-14 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-14 02:50 pm (UTC)Wonderful to see some Obidala time.
Enjoyed the read.
I wish I had a fan...
Obidala ... wish I could breed more plot bunnies ...
Date: 2010-01-14 05:07 pm (UTC)Re: Obidala ... wish I could breed more plot bunnies ...
Date: 2010-01-14 05:30 pm (UTC)I also posted a comment on the OFF to see if anyone had any plot bunnies. It's an old thread and I thought it deserved to be woken up. ;)
http://obidalaalways.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=writing&action=display&thread=233&page=1
Re: Obidala ... wish I could breed more plot bunnies ...
Date: 2010-01-14 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 09:33 pm (UTC)The peripheral details make this especially vivid, I think, particularly as Obi-Wan glances up at the landscape and thinks his man's thoughts about what's causing those fires. Poor Padme is all desperate, hormone-ravaged need, but the plastic armor is a brilliant solution. She's a resourceful lady!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 09:41 pm (UTC)Padme is resourceful, a fine politician who thinks outside the box, and she's had months to construct the perfect scenario for their reunion.