Emma
by
Ratmist
Disclaimer: Marvel Characters appearing here do not belong to me and are used for entertainment purposes only. No monetary profit is being made from this work of fiction, and no offense for writing these characters the way I see fit.
Notes: Just for kicks, I let 'em have a telepathic bond between them a-la-cable-&-dom. This fic is dedicated to Stephie and all that blueberry tea we had in college.
My very first smut. It has a bit of plot, but not much. BTW: If you don't like smut, then don't read it! If you're underaged, don't read it!
More Notes: This is my response to some fics I've read where pregnancy and/or sex always draws two characters together. It got a bit irritating and stale after a while. Liked it? Hated it?
She laid in the bed, not feeling much at all besides a flit or two against her ribcage. She honestly tried to send only calming thoughts to the stirring warmth resting inside of her, but after a last vicious blow to her side she gave up.
~Stop it, little one~, she finally sent angrily to her unborn son. The kicking stopped abruptly. ~Thank you.~
Emma Grace Frost was many things, but patient was not among them. She rubbed soothingly against her round stomach, surprised that her tactic had worked for once, and concentrated on sending warm thoughts to the child that stirred restlessly within. She didn't realize it, but she was crooning. To her stomach.
She felt laughter along the bond between her lover and herself, and sent, ~Glad to entertain.~
'Two more months of this?' she thought to herself dispassionately. She ran a ragged hand through her equally ragged hair. Emma had stopped caring a bit about her appearances during her fourth month whilst in her bed. In the daytime, though, she was extremely picky as usual. She found it was difficult to continue to wear the white, though, when she spent so much of her time either eating or clutching the rim of a toilet.
She sighed tiredly.
Her mornings began around three usually, and always with a visit to the toilet. After the first few months, both she and Sean had adjusted to the schedule, but she never did adjust to the nausea. Then, a quick shower to clean up followed a bit of very hot tea and plain saltines. If she was lucky, she could nap for an hour or so before the nausea would hit again. If she were not lucky, she wouldn't even make it to the shower part of her preferred schedule. The baby settled for a moment, giving Emma a chance to reposition herself more comfortably. Her back still ached from the baby, so she turned on her side.
Sean stirred next to her and wrapped his burly arms around her, covering his calloused palms over her thin hands. He nuzzled the back of her neck and blew at the hair he found in his way. Emma's fingers wound themselves around his as he faked a pig snore onto her shoulder.
She laughed in his embrace.
"So," he said around a yawn, "what time is it?"
"Only four-thirty-seven," she replied quietly.
~Oh, only~, he sent mockingly. "All right, woman. One cup of tea, coming right up. Chamomile, blueberry, or plain?"
Emma didn't reply, only turned in his arms and rested her head against the hollow of his neck. It was the easiest way to keep him from seeing her face, and the quickest way to make Sean worry.
"Are ye all right, Em?" his voice said hesitantly. Having a bond was one thing, but opening it was quite another. If Emma wanted to let Sean in, she'd let Sean know through the bond. Otherwise, he had to content himself to just holding her and waiting until the sudden mood swing stopped, well, swinging.
It had irritated Sean at first, but after Emma's second month of pregnancy, he finally realized why she wanted it this way. Many of the mood swings had absolutely nothing behind them besides her hormone changes, and all she really needed was a quick hug. Other times, she was genuinely upset or angry or any of the millions of emotions that occurred with or without pregnancy. In his mind, they both knew he didn't care one way or another if it was just a stupid mood swing. But for Emma, it was something of an issue.
"I...I think I want blueberry. Your son won't calm down," she said.
He chuckled a bit, slightly relieved at her words. He translated her words easily: I don't feel good and this baby is irritating me but you're handling it just fine.
She kissed the hollow of his throat and he tightened his embrace a bit. It brought back a full two years of memories for Emma. They weren't as rough in their love-play as they had been before the pregnancy, both fearing irrationally that somehow they would hurt the baby. They tip-toed around each other at first, Emma worrying that she would somehow hurt the child and Sean worrying he would somehow hurt Emma. Neither had really spoken of their options before an attack on the school came.
Funny how it took Emplate to make her realize how badly she wanted to keep this little boy.
She shivered a bit, half in memories and half in cold. He reached down her back and pulled the plain cotton sheets around her shoulders. They had bought the creamy peach sheets on a compromise. She couldn't stand dark green and he didn't want white. She shifted her legs, entwining them between his, and unconscously bumped her softly rounded middle against his still-hard abdomen. He laughed again.
"Ye're gettin fat, Em," he teased. "Nae more chocolate."
"Bite me, Cassidy," she murmured against his collarbone kissing him there as well. She shifted her leg again, and this time Sean didn't laugh. She grinned wickedly against his skin, knowing full well the power she had over that particular part of his anatomy. His hands slid to the small of her back, kneading the sore spots caused by the weight of the baby.
"What yuir doin, woman," he began sternly, "is exactly how we got inta this mess in the first place." She looked up into her lover's face. His tone was sharp, but the link and his eyes told Emma a different story.
"Well, if you want me to stop....," her voice trailed off as her lips were closed around his kiss. He pulled back for a moment and reached up with a free hand to smooth her limp white-blonde hair away from her forehead. She was pressed firmly against his body, partially for warmth and partially for more...pleasurable aspects of their relationship.
He schooled his face into looking nonchalant, but his heart and link sang when he felt a sharp nudge from her abdomen. His son was saying good morning to his father.
"Nae," he said as his hand trailed to her swollen stomach to caress the spot he had felt kick. He raised the hem of her nightgown and slipped his hand underneath.
"Don't ever stop lovin' me, Emma," he said, his other thumb gently caressing her lower lip, then ended all effective conversation for a while.
She would later claim it was the 'Emma' at the end that caused her outburst of emotion. Sean almost never used her full name, preferring 'Em', 'lass', or 'woman' depending on his mood.
She would blame her mood swings on the rush she felt at his whispered words, reminding herself that she was not a silly ninny, delirious with the foolishness of intimacy.
But while she would cast her reasons for her emotions in every direction but the one she was avoiding, she would never deny the emotions themselves.
She felt a surge of fierce possessiveness, and a joy of amplified magnitudes. She sent all her emotions like a flood through their link, conveying all her passion and strength to him as he kissed her. Her feelings, whatever they were, always flooded through his mind at times like these. It was rare to get her to share her emotions so fully, but both had quickly realized in the first stages of their relationship that sex was a very easy way into her mind. And mutually beneficial to both parties as well.
At times like these, he lived for the rush. At other times, like when she was angry or stubborn, he only received a migraine and residual bad moods for his side of the bond. Occupied as he was at the moment, Sean Cassidy did not think it was an unfair price.
As he eased her onto the bed, he ran his eyes up and down her torso. Her average-sized breasts had swollen with her pregnancy, and they laid soft against the swell of her abdomen. His child.
He kissed her belly and felt the tension from the hours before fade against the onslaught of desire so thick, both found themselves quickly shedding their clothes and reaching for the most sensitive spots available.
He grasped her pale legs and kissed the sprinkling of freckles at the top of her right thigh. Shoving her legs apart roughly, he dipped down suddenly and ran his fingers through her swollen labia. She stared at him over her stomach, completely turned on and responsive. He pushed a long finger inside her, the warm length dry against the secretions of her body, and she squeezed her eyes shut, throwing her head back in response.
He chuckled, delighted to see her lose herself for a moment. Raising himself above her, he leaned down to watch her face contort as he pleasured her. Every new pant brought a fizzle of pleasure down the link, until she whispered drunkenly, "....Sean?"
He shoved two more fingers inside and was rewarded with a long moan of appreciation. "Aye," he replied, a tad smug.
"Don't....ever stop....oh god nevermind......"
She had meant to make a pun on his earlier words, but found her tongue suddenly occupied against Sean's as his thumb began to inch its way up to a small bit of aching flesh. His tongue left hers as he slid against the side of her body, and hooking one well-toned leg over his shoulder, he began to suckle at her swollen flesh.
The link flooded him again with her sensations, the feelings of happy surrender and need for release most prominent among them. He licked faster and felt the feelings spike sharply into a sudden jarring pleasure as she went rigid on the bed. Seconds later, Emma Grace Frost was simply a pile of sated woman. He grinned as he saw her look of pleased gratitude before she could wipe it from her face.
She reached to her lover and pulled him against her, and he lifted himself above her to keep from pressing on her abdomen. She sighed and kissed him gently, languidly caressing his backside with her hands.
~Turn on yer side,~ she sent to him, and he shivered in response. Easing onto her side, she felt his warm chest pillow against her back. His free arm came around her side to cup her breast while his other arm helped pillow his own head. She lifted her leg and helped him position himself.
~Mr. Cassidy, I think you have seduced me to keep from getting my tea,~ she sent smugly.
He laughed softly, his lips rasping against her soft hair. He leaned closer and pushed himself inside her slowly, trying to prolong the sensations.
~Marry me, Em,~ he replied.
She was so shocked she twisted around in his arms to stare at his face, all love play forgotten. She studied his face. He was completely serious, his face a mixture of hope and apprehension, desire and affection.
Her own heart sent the same roiling emotions back through her mind.
"Sean," she began, "you're only doing this because of the baby. We discussed this before and---"
He cut her off with words she had dreaded hearing all her life. It wasn't that the emotions weren't enough. It wasn't that she didn't feel those emotions back, because she did. But she couldn't afford to make the wrong decision, not here, warm in their bed and full with his child. She tried to open her side of the link to make him understand, thinking that if he knew her reasons against marriage or even just how she was feeling at the moment, just content to be in his arms, maybe he'd understand.
Emma had never been good at opening up, though.
"Sean, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm so very sorry, but I can't marry you." Her words were soft and his reaction was curiously lacking. She was trying to withdraw from his embrace to see his face but he held her closer. Irritation hit her suddenly as she realized he was hiding his emotions from her. His side of the telepathic bond between them was curiously silent.
Of the two, it was always Emma clutching the bond shut, keeping herself locked away even in the face of the most intimate of relationships. It had never been Sean. Fear hit her as she irrationally felt the need to check the bond cautiously with her powers even while acknowledging that it would take a trained attack or death to break it.
'But he's so withdrawn,' she thought to herself in shock.
Over the course of a year, Emma had forgotten what it was like to be alone in her thoughts. She remembered it fully now as the warmth Sean usually radiated coolly dampened within her.
"...I'm goin t' get yer tea now, Em," he said and lightly kissed her forehead. He rolled from the bed, and went to the bathroom, not even pausing to put on his slippers. He emerged from the bathroom barefoot and covered with his dark green dressing robe. He silently left the room.
Emma fought the urge to follow him or even draw him back into the room to talk. Instead, she had to leap from the bed and stagger to the toilet, falling to her knees as she dry-heaved over the rim of the seat.
All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.