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rainbowfic2015-08-17 06:55 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-17 06:55 pm
Platinum Blond #29, Octarine #5, Milk Bottle #12
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Chosen
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Platinum Blond #29. Ted, your mother is a very, very erotic woman., Octarine #5. He moved in a way that suggested he was attempting the world speed record for the nonchalant walk., Milk Bottle #12. Stand the Bottle
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Main Stage), canvas (954 FY), charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card O5 "nuzzling"), glue ("A recent shift of plans might have been somewhat upsetting, even if it was absolutely necessary. Retrospectively, it's obvious that your response was totally valid. In fact, you continue to make positive changes as you gain new perspectives.")
Word Count: 436
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Nida, Sorell
Warnings: Sex, references to attempted assassination/poisoning skipattempted suicide where the assassin in question chose to drink the poison herself rather than kill her target.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
She stretches out one hand, inviting. He hesitates a moment, even as the heat builds in his eyes, it's been so long, and she can see the question there--are you sure? He was so frightened for her, after the poison, treating her like she was made of spun glass. But she is well now, by any measure she can think of, and she misses his touch, so much, and she has to know that--has to know that this, this love, this choice she made, was worth what she sacrificed.
So, for answer, she arches up onto her toes and kisses him, hot and hard, hopefully dispelling any doubts he has as to her health in an instant.
From there, they fall into an old rhythm--they know each other's bodies almost as well as their own by now, even though it's been months--and they fall backward onto the bed, unwrapping each other with renewed delight, even after ten years of marriage. Her clothes come off first, her hair freed into a tangled mass of thread-of-gold strewn about the pillows, and he pauses again, and she knows why, she knows she must still look a little thin, a little pale--but she sits up and pulls at his collar, kissing him with all the hunger she can muster. She loves him, she wants him, she needs him.
He nods, moving his lips along her chin and down her throat, lingering for a moment on her speeding pulse, as she gropes at his waistband, unlacing him and freeing his cock.
She feels him move to her breasts and sighs, wrapping her arms around him and arching her hips, trying to signal as best she can that yes, this is lovely, and yes, they can take their time with teasing tongues later, but now she wants him.
Finally, he gets the message and shifts position, climbing up to find her mouth again as he slides a finger into her, then a second, and--oh.
He follows with his cock, as soon as he's sure she's wet and ready and she digs her nails into his shoulderblades, burying her cries in his mouth, and each time he thrusts it echoes like bells in her heads--yes, yes, this, I chose this, chose you, love you, love you, love you so much--
They climax together and he pitches forward onto his elbows, braced above her. She kisses him once again, languorous and satisfied, and then he rolls over to his side, burying his head in her hair.
"Too fast, I'm sorry..."
She laughs a little, stroking his naked hip gently. "No. Exactly what I wanted."
Story: Chosen
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Platinum Blond #29. Ted, your mother is a very, very erotic woman., Octarine #5. He moved in a way that suggested he was attempting the world speed record for the nonchalant walk., Milk Bottle #12. Stand the Bottle
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Main Stage), canvas (954 FY), charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card O5 "nuzzling"), glue ("A recent shift of plans might have been somewhat upsetting, even if it was absolutely necessary. Retrospectively, it's obvious that your response was totally valid. In fact, you continue to make positive changes as you gain new perspectives.")
Word Count: 436
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Nida, Sorell
Warnings: Sex, references to attempted assassination/poisoning skipattempted suicide where the assassin in question chose to drink the poison herself rather than kill her target.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
She stretches out one hand, inviting. He hesitates a moment, even as the heat builds in his eyes, it's been so long, and she can see the question there--are you sure? He was so frightened for her, after the poison, treating her like she was made of spun glass. But she is well now, by any measure she can think of, and she misses his touch, so much, and she has to know that--has to know that this, this love, this choice she made, was worth what she sacrificed.
So, for answer, she arches up onto her toes and kisses him, hot and hard, hopefully dispelling any doubts he has as to her health in an instant.
From there, they fall into an old rhythm--they know each other's bodies almost as well as their own by now, even though it's been months--and they fall backward onto the bed, unwrapping each other with renewed delight, even after ten years of marriage. Her clothes come off first, her hair freed into a tangled mass of thread-of-gold strewn about the pillows, and he pauses again, and she knows why, she knows she must still look a little thin, a little pale--but she sits up and pulls at his collar, kissing him with all the hunger she can muster. She loves him, she wants him, she needs him.
He nods, moving his lips along her chin and down her throat, lingering for a moment on her speeding pulse, as she gropes at his waistband, unlacing him and freeing his cock.
She feels him move to her breasts and sighs, wrapping her arms around him and arching her hips, trying to signal as best she can that yes, this is lovely, and yes, they can take their time with teasing tongues later, but now she wants him.
Finally, he gets the message and shifts position, climbing up to find her mouth again as he slides a finger into her, then a second, and--oh.
He follows with his cock, as soon as he's sure she's wet and ready and she digs her nails into his shoulderblades, burying her cries in his mouth, and each time he thrusts it echoes like bells in her heads--yes, yes, this, I chose this, chose you, love you, love you, love you so much--
They climax together and he pitches forward onto his elbows, braced above her. She kisses him once again, languorous and satisfied, and then he rolls over to his side, burying his head in her hair.
"Too fast, I'm sorry..."
She laughs a little, stroking his naked hip gently. "No. Exactly what I wanted."
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She does think that, yes. And she loves her husband very much, and doing what her sister wanted her to do would have been hell on her children, and she knows it. She regrets it, sometimes, but she does think it was worth it.
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I know! And usually they are, mostly because Nida very carefully keeps Sorell from finding out the parts of her that would make him unhappy and oh god. Oh god. Now I really do have to do the crossover where she and Lucretia have tea or something because oh god.