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Title: Bull's Eye
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Snow/Red
Rating: R
Words: 250
Notes: For
femslash100's Astrology Challenge, prompt "Sagittarius".
Red likes to watch Snow practice. She likes to watch the frown of concentration on Snow’s face, lips parted as she breathes slow and deep, right before she lets an arrow fly.
Red doesn’t have to look to know it’s hit its target.
Snow will practice for hours, and Red will sit cross-legged on the ground, watching in silence as Snow gradually empties her quiver, jerks the arrows free from the trees they’re embedded in, then starts all over again.
All that focus, that skill and dedication, it’s scintillating. Red can’t imagine she’ll ever get tired of watching.
And at night she knows she’ll have all that focus turned on her.
Snow is playful, true, but when she has Red on her back, when Red is gasping and sweating and writhing, wet and needy for Snow’s touch, that’s when she’ll see that archer’s intensity on Snow’s face. Sharp and intent, as she breathes deep, as a trained eye sweeps over Red’s body, planning the most delicious way to make Red fall apart. To make her scream.
So Red watches Snow practice. And as Snow pulls the string of her bow taut, Red likes to remember the slide of Snow’s hands up her thighs. As the arrow flies free, she remembers the curl of Snow’s tongue. As Snow reaches for her quiver, she remembers the strength of Snow’s fingers.
Snow never comments on the colour growing in Red’s cheeks, but Red doesn’t miss Snow’s small smile, knowing sparkle in her eye.
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Snow/Red
Rating: R
Words: 250
Notes: For
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Red likes to watch Snow practice. She likes to watch the frown of concentration on Snow’s face, lips parted as she breathes slow and deep, right before she lets an arrow fly.
Red doesn’t have to look to know it’s hit its target.
Snow will practice for hours, and Red will sit cross-legged on the ground, watching in silence as Snow gradually empties her quiver, jerks the arrows free from the trees they’re embedded in, then starts all over again.
All that focus, that skill and dedication, it’s scintillating. Red can’t imagine she’ll ever get tired of watching.
And at night she knows she’ll have all that focus turned on her.
Snow is playful, true, but when she has Red on her back, when Red is gasping and sweating and writhing, wet and needy for Snow’s touch, that’s when she’ll see that archer’s intensity on Snow’s face. Sharp and intent, as she breathes deep, as a trained eye sweeps over Red’s body, planning the most delicious way to make Red fall apart. To make her scream.
So Red watches Snow practice. And as Snow pulls the string of her bow taut, Red likes to remember the slide of Snow’s hands up her thighs. As the arrow flies free, she remembers the curl of Snow’s tongue. As Snow reaches for her quiver, she remembers the strength of Snow’s fingers.
Snow never comments on the colour growing in Red’s cheeks, but Red doesn’t miss Snow’s small smile, knowing sparkle in her eye.