storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-04-08 01:42 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-04-08 01:42 pm
Swell (Rosalie/Bella)
Title: Swell
Length: 210 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic: Twilight, Rosalie/Belle, the line between hate and love
Pairing: Rosalie/Bella; Edward/Bella and Emmett/Rosalie implied
Other: PG-13 for sexual themes
Excerpt: Bella was not pregnant long enough to make Rosalie happy.
Bella was not pregnant long enough to make Rosalie happy.
Between hate and love there lies a very fine line, and often one resembles the other, at least at first glance. Rosalie hated the idea of chosen infertility, hated the idea of adding someone new, unbalancing. She hated Bella.
But then Bella did what she thought could not be done, and a child, milk-sweet and soft, slept in the other room, and Rosalie dreamed of Bella.
She imagined Bella, breasts heavy, womb full, naked and pale and human and imperfect. And she imagined herself there, leaving the most gentle of kisses to those rosy nipples, to that distended stomach. She would worship Bella's pregnant form, plant kisses across her skin until Bella moaned for completion, and then her tongue would plunge into her entrance, licking, sucking, tasting, absorbing. She would feel Bella's heartbeat in her groin, hear the child as its heartbeat speeded up in response. Bella would reach down, fingers blindly questing, grab Rosalie's hair and guide her firmly until she achieved release.
And Rosalie came softly, her fingers pressed against her clit, the other hand in her mouth. Emmett sighed in his sleep and Rosalie shut her eyes again.
Bella wasn't pregnant long enough at all.
Length: 210 words
Prompt:
comment_fic: Twilight, Rosalie/Belle, the line between hate and lovePairing: Rosalie/Bella; Edward/Bella and Emmett/Rosalie implied
Other: PG-13 for sexual themes
Excerpt: Bella was not pregnant long enough to make Rosalie happy.
Bella was not pregnant long enough to make Rosalie happy.
Between hate and love there lies a very fine line, and often one resembles the other, at least at first glance. Rosalie hated the idea of chosen infertility, hated the idea of adding someone new, unbalancing. She hated Bella.
But then Bella did what she thought could not be done, and a child, milk-sweet and soft, slept in the other room, and Rosalie dreamed of Bella.
She imagined Bella, breasts heavy, womb full, naked and pale and human and imperfect. And she imagined herself there, leaving the most gentle of kisses to those rosy nipples, to that distended stomach. She would worship Bella's pregnant form, plant kisses across her skin until Bella moaned for completion, and then her tongue would plunge into her entrance, licking, sucking, tasting, absorbing. She would feel Bella's heartbeat in her groin, hear the child as its heartbeat speeded up in response. Bella would reach down, fingers blindly questing, grab Rosalie's hair and guide her firmly until she achieved release.
And Rosalie came softly, her fingers pressed against her clit, the other hand in her mouth. Emmett sighed in his sleep and Rosalie shut her eyes again.
Bella wasn't pregnant long enough at all.