#Flash Fiction Festival

[stars-forever]

Fellow writers and fanfiction enthusiasts! I'm excited to announce that claiming for the @character-a-character-b “Festival of Prompts” flash fest has officially opened!

Join us for the last flash fest of 2024! This event is meant to celebrate all of the flash fest held in 2024 and will use some of the unused prompts from previous flash fest events. Thank you @theneverwriter and @nicky-gabriel for letting me use your prompts!

This flash fest is 3 weeks long rather than 2 weeks, due to the holiday season.

Our Discord Server Link is: https://discord.gg/pCjeXgV4VV

[thebadphilosopher]

Day 2 of Writemas

Prompt chosen: A library

Started by @agirlandherquill.

*******

While there wasn't an overall great place to hide during a zombie apocalypse, Rose's first instinct to head to her local library was really backfiring at the moment. As she sat huddled behind a bookshelf, Mr. Dawns the head librarian groaned and shuffled by, arms out. His peach flesh had dried out in the biting cold air so it left a trail of flaky breadcrumbs behind him, a nice line to figure out where he went.

Rose sighed, her breath whispering away into the darkness. She had been stuck in that one area for almost two weeks. Two weeks in the dark, cold, and damp building with company who was both not alive and probably growing mold at this point. There was a grocery store a block away but between that place and this building there were approximately thirteen zombies to weave around, not including however many were actually inside the store when she got there.

She couldn't stay here though.

As the shuffling got quieter, Rose peeked around the bookshelf and shuffled closer and closer to the glass front door. Outside, it seemed still but the trees bent and swayed to the wild wind. Inviting. She shoved the handle. Nothing. The rubber around the automatic door was frozen shut which meant she could either warm it up or break the glass, both risking zombies spotting her. Their hearing was shot but once they spotted you it was as if there was some tracker inside them. They would follow you to the ends of the earth if nothing stopped them.

Taking off her backpack, Rose searched for anything that could muffle the shattering but all she had was a hammer, scissors, some weak twine, and duct tape. It wasn't her fault she taking a walk when the apocalypse happened and the library wasn't really one to have melee weapons.

Glancing over her shoulder, Rose counted which zombies were close and how soon more would be coming. She bundled everything back into the backpack besides the hammer, gripping it tightly. It was now or never.

The metal hit the glass pane. Once, twice, crunch. The zombies may not have good hearing, but no one could've ignored that. Hoisting the backpack on her shoulders, Rose sprinted out of the library into the snowstorm, ignoring the gagging sounds growing close behind her.

Head down, feet moving. Keep going.

[suzannahnatters]

Flash Fic: The Gardens of Hades

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

He snatches me from the sunlit lands and carries me to the underworld, a dark chasm lit only by the distant flames of Tartarus. His house is of black marble, and as he drags me through the shadowed halls, I try to empty my mind of everything but this moment.

I know the stories. I know that the gods have cruel desires.

Instead, he opens the door to a walled garden. A black pool glitters at the centre. Naked sticks rattle in the earth, but nothing lives here.

“This is yours, Lady Persephone,” he says.

Then he leaves.

.

I’m just glad Hades leaves me alone, so I don’t ask questions. I infuse the pool with light and call grass and asphodel from the dead soil.

When he visits again, he comes with a gift.

“I have brought you a servant.” A veiled shade follows him into the garden.

I wonder if he wants me to thank him for giving me a slave when I once had friends, a desert when I once had flowers.

I wonder why he took me.

Hades inspects a young shrub. “What’s this?”

“A pomegranate,” I say.

For a moment, I think he’s going to speak. Then he swallows the impulse and leaves.

.

On the day my pomegranate tree blooms, I find the shade sitting beneath the tree wiping her eyes with her veil. She says her first word: Springtime.

Little by little, she remembers how to speak. She talks about finishing this garden and moving on, the underworld blooming under my touch.

She doesn’t remember her name, so I call her Lethe.

.

My pomegranate tree bears fruit, but as I peel it open Lethe grabs my wrist. “If you eat, you will become a creature of his realm.”

I hurl the fruit at the wall.

.

It’s only a matter of time till my mother finds me.

Hades keeps sending gifts: servants, seeds, pruning-hooks and shovels. As the garden fills with life, so do the shades. The third time he visits, he dismisses the servants and looks at me with tired eyes. I wonder if he is always this sad.

“Your mother grieves without hope. Crops and men die, and no one sacrifices to the gods.” He sighs. “I am to send you back.”

Back to the home he took from me. Back to mother and wind and sunlight, but first I have one question.

“Why did you take me?” I spit.

He is the lord of the dead. He cannot sugar his words, as other gods might. “I need you,” he admits.

I think of Lethe, and to my surprise, I understand. I am springtime, but he is pain. No wonder the dead suffer, if that is all he can give them.

Before he can stop me, I rip open a pomegranate, and the juice is sour on my tongue.

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

But where I tread, they bloom. ---- I wrote this flash fic for the Pilgrim Artists' Festival, a small Christian festival of art, music, and words which runs every year in Tasmania's Huon Valley. The theme for the 2019 festival was "Grief and Hope", and I at once thought of Dorothy Sayers' poem, Rex Doloris, which imagines Hades as the King of Grief. This is the 500-word short story that resulted. I'd been looking for a way of retelling the story for nearly as long as I can remember, and this ficlet is the first step in that process. I can promise you that it won't be the last.

The 2023 Pilgrim Artists' Festival is now open for submissions of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, art, and music from Christian, Nicene-Creed-affirming artists, including children and adults, anywhere in the world. This year's prompt is "Beauty in the Everyday" and there is a 500 word limit on literary entries. There are also dozens of prizes available - check them out and submit here.

[character-a-character-b]

"Festival of Prompts" Flash Fest Awards!

We're thrilled to announce that the awards for the "Festival of Prompts" Flash Fest hosted by @stars-forever have been given out!

Congratulations to all the writers who won an award and thank you to everyone who took the time to write and vote for the Flash Fest!

Our Discord Server Link is: https://discord.gg/pCjeXgV4VV

[suzannerogersonfantasyauthor]

Review snippets from the #Booktour for A Little Christmas Magic #festivestories

So far on the book tour for my new festive collection of short stories I’ve been loving the reviews coming in. It’s always fun to share a few of my favourite quotes with you. Please click the link for the full review on instagram. weebelfastbookshelf ‘…Each story was perfect for an easy, cosy read at this time of year 🎄 the author has beautifully captured what this time of year is really about,…

[ce-ayr-blog]

Harbour Lights - Unicorn Challenge

Copyright Ayr/Gray The Unicorn Challenge. A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.The rules are:Maximum of 250 words.Based on photo prompt.That’s it.To hear me read my story, just click…

[enlysia]

WINTER THINGS ❅.⊹₊ ⋆❆ ENHYPEN OT7

❛ my baby's in town and we're gonna do

some winter things ❜

enhypen and cute christmas drabbles / headcanons

genre — fluff pairing — bf!enha x gn!reader

warnings — cliché and tooth rotting fluff. comfort. skinship. lighthearted teasing. bad attempt at humor :/ lots of kisses :3

word count — 2.3k

this is a work of fiction, which does not accurately portray or represent the people included.

author note — this is my first literary attempt on here (i've wrote before though) so i hope you enjoy~♡ reblogs, likes and comments are so sooo appreciated >.< ALSO merry christmas lovies !

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆ ⠀ 🤍 ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶

— LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)

a disco ball spins lazily overhead, casting scintillating light across the scene and highlighting your stunning features as you sing and dance with carefree abandon. the energy in the karaoke room is electric, pure ecstasy, filled with giggles and love as you and heeseung luxuriate in this festive experience together.

neon lights flicker, casting a fancy glow on the walls, while oversized snowflakes drift from the ceiling. tinsel wraps around the edges, and small christmas trees are scattered throughout, adding whimsy to the scene. the glossy ebony floor reflects the vibrance of the room, shifting in time with the music.

at center stage, side by side, you stand in matching festive sweaters, each one accentuated with cheeky designs, and santa hats perched jauntily atop your heads. the large screen ahead flashes the lyrics to holiday classics, like “last christmas,” inviting you to sing along. the microphone passes back and forth between you, laughter dissipating in the air as you alternate singing each line, teasing one another with exaggerated, dramatic performances. the energy is lighthearted, infectious—humor and charm woven into every note.

heeseung sings with effortless flair, his voice steady and angelic: “last christmas, i gave you my heart…”

you join in, your voice bubbly, slightly off-key: “but the very next day, you gave it away…”

heeseung grins, delivering the next line with dramatic finesse: “this year, to save me from tears…”

you slowly step closer, your motion calculated, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips, singing: “i’ll give it to someone special…”

crackles fill the atmosphere between you, the music fading as your eyes meet. the world around you seems to still, the tension palpable. without a word, you reach out, pulling him in for a soft, light kiss—brief, but sweet, leaving a flutter of butterflies in your chest. the moment feels unexpectedly intimate, a perfect harmony to the uplifting pandemonium surrounding you.

you pull away slowly, breathless, smiles blooming across your flushed faces. heeseung snickers, his eyes twinkling with affection. “guess i just gave you my heart.”

“best christmas gift ever,” you beam, your eyes sparkling with mischief, a playful contrast to his soft smile.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— PARK JAY (박종성)

in the cozy warmth of the kitchen, you’re swept up in the joyful chaos of baking gingerbread cookies with jay. flour dusts the countertops and clings to your clothes, creating a soft, white duvet of mess around you—reminiscent of delicate snowflakes. laughter saturates the air as you take turns feeding each other pieces of raw dough, your fingers lightly dusted with flour as you gently press the sticky mixture to each other's mouths.

christmas songs echo through the culinary space, reverberating against the walls and in your chests as you both chant together, lost in the euphoria of the moment, exchanging loving glances that speak louder than words.

jay laughs, reaching forward to wipe a smudge of flour from your lips. “i don’t think we’re baking cookies anymore. i think we’re just making a mess.”

“we’re going to need a snowplow at this point,” you reply with a grin, flicking a bit of dough at him.

“it looks like we’ve been caught in a flour blizzard!” he exclaims, tossing a handful of flour at you like a snowball.

“you’re ridiculous,” you murmur, cracking up as you toss some back at him.

“didn’t know humans could create a snowstorm,” he teases, closing the distance between you, his flour-covered hands leaving fingerprints on your cheeks as he gently cups your face and sows a tender peck to your lips.

you lean in to return the sweet caress. the flour on your faces smears, only adding to the charm of the moment. your love fills the kitchen, blending with the warm, sweet scent of baking cookies and the gentle illumination of holiday lights dancing around you. it’s a perfect, simple moment of bliss, shared between you—lost in the miracle of the season and the alchemy of your connection.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— SIM JAKE (심재윤)

the soothing notes of soft jazz sweep through the living room, blending harmoniously with the gentle sound of snowflakes tapping against the windows, creating a serene, wintery symphony.

you and jake stand close together beneath the christmas tree, its twinkling lights casting a comforting shine that waltzes across the homemade ornaments adorning its branches. the tree stands proudly in the corner, already surrounded by a growing pile of carefully bundled gifts.

laughter bubbles between you both as you wrap each other in sparkling tinsel. the lustrous silver and gold strands wind around you like a cozy winter cocoon, shimmering with each movement. playful bickering dominates the air as you both try to outdo each other, draping the tinsel in ever more extravagant loops, each determined to “mummify” the other in the most festive way possible. every touch unites you, a silent promise of love and connection woven into the twinkle of the tinsel.

the warmth of the moment engulfs the room and your hearts, as you revel in the sweet bond of togetherness and lighthearted disagreement.

“you’re wrapping it too tight! i can’t even move!” you object, attempting to wriggle free from the glossed restraints.

jake chuckles, clearly pleased with his work. “you look so festive... like the living version of the christmas spirit!”

“i look like i’m stuck in a tinsel straightjacket!” you groan, rolling your eyes dramatically.

jake’s grin widens, his eyes alive with mischief. “well, now you can’t escape all the kisses i plan to give you.” with that, he leans in, planting a series of soft, lingering kisses on your face, each one drawing a giggle from you despite your playful protests.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— PARK SUNGHOON (박성훈)

beneath the soft glow of twinkling christmas lights, you stand at the edge of the ice, at the heart of a vintage ice-skating rink. the rink’s aged charm is alive with the laughter and warmth of friends and families gliding gracefully across the frozen sheet, their joy filling the frosty air. the atmosphere is an effortless blend of nostalgia and festive cheer, with colorful lights casting an echo on the rink’s frosty smooth, glistening surface.

you hesitate, your breath catching in the cool, crisp air. the crystal gleams before you, the facade stretching out in a perfect, inviting expanse, yet your feet feel rooted to the ground. a flicker of doubt crosses your mind as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, watching the skaters cruise fluently by. the thought of slipping, of losing your balance, twists your stomach into knots.

“yeah, i think we definitely need the skating penguin aid,” sunghoon teases, extending his hand with a grin, his eyes glinting with tomfoolery. he gestures toward the rink with mock grandeur. “unless you want me to wrap you in bubble wrap first.”

“shut up, i’m fine,” you murmur, though the panic is evident as you grab his hand like a lifeline. “i’m totally fine, i just... don’t want to die today.”

he laughs, the sound warm and reassuring. his gaze softens as he squeezes your hand, grounding you with his touch. “don’t worry,” he says with a playful smile. “you’re not going to die, i promise. i’ll protect you... unless i fall first, in which case, we’re both doomed.”

“you’re a pro. you won’t fall,” you mutter, throwing him a skeptical side-eye.

“exactly,” he replies nonchalantly. “now hold on tight. i’ll make you a skating pro in no time—or at least keep you from face-planting.” his grin widens as he pulls you close, his steady hands guiding you as he nuzzles in to plant a soft-spoken kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his embrace lingers, a gentle promise of both support and affection, keeping you centered as you take your first shaky steps onto the ice.

amidst the festive bustle of the holiday season—surrounded by laughter, christmas melodies, and the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice—you share this moment together. it’s a sweet, tender embrace, where your hearts beat in perfect harmony, filled with love, coziness, and the magic of the season.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— KIM SUNOO (김선우)

within the crisp winter air, you find yourself seated in a ferris wheel cabin, suspended high above a bustling winter wonderland. the gentle motion of the ride slows, as if time itself has paused to savor this fleeting moment. around you, the ferris wheel glows with festive decorations—twinkling fairy lights, ribbons, and garlands entwining a spell of seasonal enchantment.

below, the holiday fair stretches out like a canvas of shimmering christmas lights, their warm glow spilling over streets and rooftops. the distant hum of carols and laughter drifts upward, blending seamlessly with the stillness of the night. in this tranquil embrace, the world below blurs, leaving only the soft presence of sunoo beside you and the serene beauty of the season.

you gaze beneath, your voice barely a whisper. “this doesn't feel real. it’s like a snow globe.”

sunoo’s eyes remain on you, a small sneer playing at his lips. “it is.”

you turn to him, holding back a giggle as your eyes sparkle. “you’re not even looking at the fair.”

he shrugs, his voice laced with hazy charm. “why would i? i’ve already got the best view right here.”

“you’re so corny,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you nudge him playfully.

the ferris wheel creaks as it pauses at its peak, the view stretching endlessly around you. sunoo reaches for your gloved hand, his fingers interlocking with yours as he gazes into your eyes, his expression mellow.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, a slight hesitation in his voice.

you nod, your cheeks flushed from the cold—and maybe from something else. “you don’t need to ask.”

he inches closer, and your lips meet in a kiss that feels suspended in time. the world below fades into a blur of fluorescence, the cold long forgotten as you lose yourself in the moment. when you finally pull away, your cheeks are even redder, your breath coming in soft bursts as you let out a quiet laugh.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— YANG JUNGWON (양정원)

the late winter breeze mingled with the deep midnight blues as you and jungwon stood side by side in the soft, falling snow in the park. hands wrapped in mittens and bundled up in scarves and coats, you rolled large snowballs together, giggling at the clumsy mishaps that unfolded with each playful turn. the cold air nipped at your faces, but the heat between you made the breeze feel almost comforting. you worked in harmony, shaping the snow into a snowman, your palms brushing against each other with every gentle adjustment, each stroke a silent exchange of affection in the quiet of the night.

when the snowman was finally complete, jungwon’s face lit up with a proud grin, his voice full of childlike excitement. “we’re finally done!” he exclaimed, as though you’d just achieved something monumental.

you beamed back at him, feeling the thrill of the instant. but before you could gather yourself, he pulled you close, spinning you in the soft, snowflakes cascading from above. you gasped in surprise, chuckles pouring out of your lips as you tumbled together, the snowman toppling over with a dramatic thud, burying itself in the white blanket below.

you both landed in the icy duvet, gasping with laughter. jungwon, eyes shining with impishness, smirked at the fallen frosty figure and then turned to you, his voice teasing. “guess it’s nap time!”

you shook your head in playful exasperation. “really? you had to do that?”

his cat-like eyes glinted with amusement as he shot you a wide, cheeky grin. “it wasn’t my fault! the snowman just wanted a nap.”

“a nap? it was standing perfectly!” you replied, letting out a dramatic sigh, your breath puffing in the crispy air.

“it had dreams, okay?” jungwon sniggered, his voice warm and teasing. then, with a sly gleam in his gaze, he leaned in. his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate, lingering kiss that felt like the quiet flare of a secret shared between you. the blanket of stars above seemed to shimmer even brighter, as if the universe itself had held its breath, adding a touch of magic to the moment.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— NISHIMURA RIKI (西村力)

you and riki are staying in a cozy, rustic cabin nestled deep in the woods, smothered by freshly fallen snow. the log exterior of the cabin is dusted with fragile snowflakes, while hazy, golden light spills from the windows, casting a warm, peaceful glow on the world outside. a wreath of pine branches adorned with bright red ribbons hangs cheerfully on the front door, adding a festive touch to the winter landscape.

inside, the neon lights of the christmas tree shimmer and sway, casting faint, colorful shadows on your faces while the comforting taste of hot chocolate lingers on your lips. the scent of pine and cinnamon hangs in the air, a perfect synchrony of winter fragrances that floods your senses. wrapped in the woolen blanket fort you built earlier, you huddle close by the stone fireplace, the only sounds being the hissing of the flames and the occasional bursts of laughter you share while watching your favorite holiday classics.

“this fort looks like it’s going to collapse any second,” you say, glancing up at the leaning blankets with a mischievous hint of worry.

riki’s laughter fills the space as the fort creaks ominously.

his eyes shine with playful schemes as he turns to you. “nah, this fort could rival the pyramids. a true wonder of the world.”

you snort, giving his arm a lighthearted shove. “if the pyramids were built with chairs and duct tape.”

he grins, feigning mock offense. “stop! this is engineering excellence at its finest.”

“as long as you’re happy,” you tease, your heartfelt smile full of compassion as your gaze meets his.

with a soft chuckle, riki delicately tugs you closer, gifting a tender kiss to your forehead. his fingers gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch prolonged as the moment feels timeless—mute, safe, and filled with true love.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

© enlysia ᐸ/3² ― 2024 — all rights reserved. do not copy, plagiarize, translate my work, or post it on other sites.

ccto for the cute dividers

[pernesophe]

“Teach Me”: Arranged Marriage to Togame Jo

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

MDNI MATURE CONTENT: TW: arranged marriage, mention of reader's not great mother, suggestive and smut, groping/petting, usage of good girl, cunnilingus (both giving and receiving), vaginal intercourse. Also it is reader's first time, but this is fictional so like reader will be having a good time. No ages mentioned, but written as 18+ characters. Synopsis: You are promised to marry the son of the Togame Clan - Jo Togame. Will you and your new husband be able to get along? (This is 100% inspired by that one scene in Grey's Anatomy where Lexie keeps telling Sloane "teach me" to convince him to have sex with her. Only inspired by, so my apologies if this does not live up to that but I did try!) WC: ~6,659

When your mother informed you that you were to marry the first son, Jo Togame, of the Togame Clan you hadn’t expected the man standing at the end of the aisle to be so handsome, or tall. On the long trek to their palace, your mother spoke ad nauseum about how important this alliance with the Togame clan is and that you need to be willing to do anything to keep your new husband happy. Though she didn’t say it directly, it was heavily implied that if he wanted to spend time in another’s bed, then you would need to be accepting of that. 

“Love is Sacrifice.” She had told you with a finality in her tone that made your blood boil and bile rise in your throat. A loveless marriage isn’t something you had ever dreamed of. You had been diligent in your studies, learned how to run a House, and what it takes to rear children. Though young and maybe sometimes a little naive, you knew you were worth committing to, and you weren’t willing to accept anything less than true love from your new husband.

The ceremony was traditional - barring a few differences in culture - and was followed by a reception filled with food, drink, music and dancing. Although you and your husband were seated side by side for the festivities, the two of you barely exchanged any words other than a few pleasantries.

Regardless, you enjoyed taking in his flowing, raven locks, striking viridescent eyes, and the long slope of his nose. When he spoke to the people coming to congratulate the two of you, his bow shaped lips would curl into the most breathtaking smile that made your heart flutter. Just as the night came to a close, two big incidents occurred.

First, you were approached by a maiden who asked if she could take you to get ready now, but as you began to nod your husband gently told her that won’t be necessary. A worried look flashed across her face before she nodded and scurried off. You looked to Jo for an explanation, but he just told you not to worry about it and went back to saying goodbyes for the both of you. About 15 minutes later, a rather official looking man of the court approached you directly.

“Good evening. May my maiden prepare you for your wedding night?” He asked with a sickly sweet smile that made your skin crawl. Slowly, you nodded and started to rise to your feet again, but Jo was already on his feet. One large, possessive hand laid on your shoulder, gently pulling you so your back was flush with his chest as he looked down at the official over the top of your head.

“That won’t be necessary.” Jo repeated himself with an easy going smile, but the way he carried himself was still incredibly intimidating. The court official took an uneasy step back, but didn't let it go just yet.

“Are you not celebrating your wedding night, Sir?” He asked lightly, but the suspicious glint in his eye showed the heaviness of the topic as a hush falls over the room. Jo’s serene smile didn't drop as he calmly spoke. 

“I’ll be preparing my wife for our wedding night. I did swear to protect her body and virtue in my vows, did I not? It seems only right that I’m the sole person to witness her.” Jo replied smoothly, completely throwing the court official as he dumbly nodded and took his leave. Your face burned from the blatant implication, and your heart did a hopeful flutter that maybe your marriage will be good. Apparently your husband is known for his quick quips and wittiness as a small chorus of chuckles followed the man out.

The second incident to occur was when a large intimidating man, covered in scars and wearing an eyepatch approached your wedding table with a ridiculously large knife. Freezing in place, you involuntarily grabbed Jo’s hand in fear, eyes widened as you held your breath. An Assassination attempt already?!

Internally you screamed, but then Jo patted your hand with the one not being held and smiled down at you comfortingly, emerald eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“He’s here for me.” Your husband explained with a small chuckle at your cute expression, but when that only heightened your fear he had to stifle a laugh at your frightened eyes. Frightened for him.

“It’s a ritual. There’s no danger, I promise.” Voice low and soothing as you nodded and released his hand, and then he stood and followed the ‘not-assassin’ to the center of the room. Once there, a chair was placed behind Jo and he sat and swept his hair so it was laid on the back of the chair. 

The ritual only took about 30 minutes. The not-assassin turned out to be a type of barber, as he used the curved blade to cut almost all of Jo’s hair off. Only the top locks on his head were left at a medium-short length that fluttered down and framed his broad, striking features. The under-layers were all shaved close to his head so there was a gradient until it became most thin along his neckline and sideburns. At first you were shocked, and a little sad to watch his long hair fall to the stone floor, but when you saw the finished look you felt a fluttering deep in your belly that you've never felt before.

Finally, the festivities were over and the two of you were able to head to your room. The custom was different in this kingdom where the two of you would share a room always instead of just for consummation or procreation. It made you feel a little better about coming here.

Even though you and your husband were currently bumbling around the shared space so awkwardly - avoiding each other’s gazes and chuckling out apologies when you would cross paths. It takes some time, but you get up enough courage to deliberately stop in Jo’s path and meet his gaze with determination. He peers down at you with a curious smile, until you begin to undo your wedding robes for him, then his smile drops completely causing your hands to still.

“Don’t. We don’t need to tonight.” Speaking curtly as he tries to move past you and exit the room completely. Bewildered for a moment, but the fiery anger of rejection stokes your muscles to move. Quickly, you bolt in front of him so that you are positioned between him and the door, a glare set in your brow.

“Look,” he sighs at you. “You’ve already had to sacrifice a lot for this, and I don’t want you to have to sacrifice everything for ‘love’ at least on the first day…” He says calmly, even though he put air quotes on the word love, and then rubs the back of his neck from the building tension in the room. Glaring at him unblinkingly for a moment, before you shift your weight to one foot and cross your arms over your chest - Jo’s eyebrows shoot up at your sudden change in demeanor.

”Do you know what my mother told me when I was notified that I would marry you?” You ask defiantly, he blinks rapidly at you, but then shakes his head slowly. “She said ‘Love is Sacrifice’, and I hated her for saying it, because I didn’t want that to be true.” Vulnerability glints in your eyes as your words puncture the tension in the air, and Jo’s shoulders relax as he regards you a bit more seriously. 

“But I’ve already sacrificed everything. I’m here, with you, and I don’t know anyone or have any friends - so it’s just too sad to think that I won’t receive any love in return.” Admitting to him softly, and he opens his mouth to explain himself, but you keep talking so he can't convince you to wait. 

“On the way here I promised myself that I would fight for an honest marriage - one where I love my husband, and he loves me. So no - I will not accept this,” Speaking firmly with a slight sneer as you gesture between him and the door. If Jo knew what was good for him he wouldn’t interrupt, because you’re just getting started. Fortunately, he seemed to already be picking up on that as he slowly nodded at your words.

“I will not compromise about this either. I don’t care if it’s awkward, or even unbearable for us this time. We will consummate our marriage, and by God we will learn how to love each other. Because we are stuck together now, and I will not accept anything less than your unconditional love. I don’t care if it -or you- kills me, but you will accept mine as well. That is the promise we made to each other today, and maybe you aren’t, but I am true to my word.” Speaking with a determination he didn’t know you possessed earlier on the altar as you enunciated your words carefully, and borderline threateningly to him now.

With that, you begin stripping the intricate bridal robes to reveal a cotton slip underneath that came to your mid thigh and plunged deeply with wispy straps to hold the fabric on your body. It wasn’t form fitting, but underneath he could see your curves illuminated in the gauzy fabric by the candlelight. His eyes roam over your curves, plush thighs, and delicate, dewey skin. Traveling back to your face where he finds an expectant expression on your face, and if his nerves weren’t wracked to high heaven already he would’ve laughed at the notch in your brow. Face set as if you were preparing for war. 

Obliging your silent request, he disrobes as well - revealing to you a sleeveless undershirt slightly parted to show his broad chest and hard abdomen covered in sun kissed skin and an assortment of battle scars. As his robes fall, your eyes follow the thick muscles connecting his neck to his shoulder, down to his impressive bicep, which gave way to his forearm and calloused hand that were lined with veins that popped out as he flexed them under your intense stare. 

When he did so, it brought your attention to his ceremonial pants that housed an impressive bulge that pulled your focus to right in between his thighs. Your breath hitches as you wonder - without even seeing it fully - how it would fit? Jo, seeing your wide eyes and worried look, gently reaches forward and grasps your elbows lightly in his hands and forces you to meet his gaze.

”Don’t push yourself… This is why I didn’t want to jump right into it.” He says gently as his expression softens incredibly and he shoots you a reassuring smile - wordlessly conveying that it's okay to wait.

”I-I’m not pushing myself… I just… Haven’t done this before, so I may be inexperienced at first…” Trailing off quietly, turning shy for the first time since you stopped him from leaving. Adorable. Jo muses to himself as an imperceptible smile passes over his lips.

“Have you done this before?” Asking him with eyebrows raised as you shoot him a hopeful look. His eyes widen this time as he tries to think of an appropriate answer. Yes, he has done this - at the brothel in town, where he paid them to teach him what to do in his teen years… but he didn’t know if you’d be okay hearing that or not.

”Yes…” he answers cautiously. Beaming up at him excitedly, you step forward and grab his forearms - causing his face to turn beet red, but you barely notice. Togame’s heart begins beating wildly against his ribcage as he wills he breathing to remain steady.

”Th-Then, will you… teach me?” Asking, oh so innocently - obviously not knowing what you’re asking of him, or doing to him. Lime green eyes growing dark at your request, but he smiles bashfully and shakes his head as a quiet scoff passes his lips.

”Y/N, I think we should wait…” He responds slowly, but you’re already hooking your fingers into the straps of your dress to let it fall to the floor. Proving his warrior reflexes, Jo grabs your hands to stop you at top speed.

”I don’t want to wait, and neither do our people�� Do… Do you not want me?” Murmuring as your eyes fall to the ground and your face contorts from hurt. His hands fly up in front of him defensively as he shakes his head vehemently - brows raised and verdant eyes wide in disbelief.

”I want you, God, do I want you.” Groaning low, restraint held taught as he tries to stay focused. “I just want- I want you to feel comfortable, not nervous our first time together.” Reassuring you as best he can in a gentle tone, just barely disguising the inner turmoil he was currently facing as you peer up at him with those bedroom eyes. Honestly, Jo didn’t even think you knew how to give a look like that on purpose - which only made him sweat more.

”Then teach me,” saying a little more earnestly, making his cock twitch at your plea. “The only way I won’t feel nervous is if I know what I’m doing…” speaking low in a persuasive tone as you finally remove the straps and drop the fabric to the floor. Revealing yourself in all your glory to your stunned husband.

Togame feels absolutely feral just from the sight of you - like a beast was clawing in his veins just to touch you - still he holds himself back. You take a tentative half step forward so your bodies are a breath away from touching. ”Teach me, Jo, please…” you plead again - eyes begging this time.

Unable to hold himself back any longer - the beast tears straight through his bloodstream as he watches himself grab and pull you into his arms and crash his mouth against yours. Pressing your back to the door, he nudges his knee in between your thighs and leans closer until your already dripping core is soaking his pants. Rocking your hips on instinct to get some desired friction as you ride his thigh. Moving to devour your neck as he hears himself growl, “That’s it. Cum on my thigh, Y/N. Good Girl.” 

The hardened top of his thigh pressing deliciously into your clit was sending shocks of pleasure through your core straight to your fingers and toes. Nails digging into his biceps for stability and toes curling just above the floor. Air is becoming scarce as your breathing turns uneven and broken up by whiny moans. He groans low against your skin as you grind frantically on him to chase your release. Finally, as the taught string snaps in your core you tilt your head back and cry out, “Oh God, Jo!” Before you fall limp against your husband’s chest.

Resituating you to wrap your legs around his hips, Togame uses one strong arm to brace you against his chest as he carries you over to the four post bed. Laying you down and quickly following to lay in between your thighs, pressing his bulge into your already sensitive heat causing you to arch your back and gasp. He titters quietly from your reaction before dipping his head and slotting his lips with yours. Swiping his tongue across your bottom lip as his large hands map out your body. His fingertips tickle your ribcage and caress from your collarbones, over your sternum, all the way down to the rise of your hips. Roughened hands traveling over your smooth curves and plump breasts, the swell of your thighs and down to knead your ass. Loving squeezes and caresses followed by compliments breathed into your mouth: 

“You’re so soft,” as his tongue flicked the corner of your mouth earning a gasp; “and warm,” as he nips at your bottom lip; “and your hips, my god! They’re perfect for bearing my children…” his eyes flash at the thought as you gasp from the compliment; “I can’t wait to make you plump with our child,” he whispers before finally slipping his tongue in your mouth. Togame tastes of wine, clove, and something muskily sweet that made your pussy drool as you deepened the kiss for more.

“Pull my hair,” he directs between kisses - immediately you follow his instructions - pulling him closer. After mussing his soft raven locks in your hands, you take the initiative and let them drift over the hard planes of his chest and abdomen to dip your fingertips into his shirt. Slowly, you push the cotton cloth off his shoulders, and Jo leans back to let the fabric slide off his muscular build - eyes gleaming down at you pridefully. 

Wordlessly, you reach out and let your hands ghost over his scarred chest and arms, down to his fingers that are twitching with need. Letting your fingers drift along the flow of his muscles to the point of each thumb, and then you let your touch jump to the sensitive skin just above the band of his pants. Your gaze commits wherever you touch to memory as you lean forward and kiss the hardened muscles rippling over his ribs. Jo releases a low hiss of air as he cards his fingers in your hair, letting one hand move down to cup your cheek and tilt your head back to look at him in his emerald orbs.

“I’m not sure you needed me to teach you much,” teasing, as he caresses the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Pursing your lips, you gently kiss the digit before taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it as your eyes become half lidded. Jo’s mouth falls open in awe as he watches you work his thumb in your mouth - it’s not long before his hardened length is straining against his cotton pants to get to you. Then, a thought comes to the forefront of his mind, and he can’t bring himself to filter it. 

“Can you do that to my cock?” He whispers huskily, electric lime green eyes gleaming salaciously. Your eyes brighten as you release his thumb and nod up at him eagerly, which only causes him to grab your face in his hands to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss. You have no idea what you’re doing to me, musing silently to himself as he releases your cheeks and starts undoing the string of his pants.

As they slacken around his waist and he lets them fall away from his twitching length, you feel your mouth fall open in shock from the sheer size. He’s long with considerable girth, thick veins running from the base to the thick mushroom head that’s leaking a drop of precum. Jo watches your expression intently and feels all the blood rush downward as shiny drool collects at the corner of your mouth while you wrap one delicate hand around the base. Slowly, you run your hand lightly from the base to just below the tip and then back down - feeling him - as you lean forward and lick the drop of precum with the tip of your tongue.

Staring down the task at hand, you can feel your nerves getting the better of you as you don’t really know how to proceed. Jo picks up on your uncertainty as he reaches out to cup your cheek again, drawing his thumb over the apple of it as he brings your gaze back to his face. A gentle smile plays on his lips and a notch has formed in his brow, but his eyes are so kind that his whole expression just exudes care.

“It’s alright. I’m supposed to teach you, right?” He asks reassuringly, and you nod up at him earnestly. His smile grows as he gently wraps one of his large hands around yours that’s holding his length - closing your hand tighter around him. “If you haven’t wet it yet, then wrap your hand around it like this and then move it like this,” he says as he starts pumping your hand around him at an even pace. Like a good student, you nod along with his instructions as your eyes dart between the task and his expression changing to pleasure. After a few moments for you to get the hang of the motion, Jo guides your lips to the tip of his cock with the hand still cupping your cheek.

“Now, can you start by kissing it like you did with my thumb?” Asking breathily, and you waste no time placing a loving kiss to his tip, letting his precum smear over your lips while your eyes stay glued to his darkening ones. Without further instruction, you take the whole head of his member into your hot mouth and begin swirling your tongue around it - licking up the precum as you do. As your tongue slides along the underside of his tip, Jo’s breath hitches in his throat and your eyes widen in excitement as you do it again - gaining the same reaction. He watches your eyes take on a mischievous hue and he immediately presses his thumb into your cheek as he grins down at you.

“A little eager aren’t we?” Laughing deeply at you, causing him to twitch in your hand and mouth - only making your core clench as your excitement grows, shown in your heated gaze. Jo laughs heartily again with a shake of his head as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “God, you’re gonna give me a heart attack if you keep this up,” he scoffs warmly. Then, he wraps his fingers around the back of your head and pulls gently until you’re sitting up on your knees while you peer up at him expectantly. Using his hand wrapped around yours, he moves it down to hold the base of his cock. 

“Can you take more in your mouth?” He murmurs, and you only smile up at him around his head before allowing more saliva to collect in your mouth and slide as much of him in as you can. Surprisingly, your lips kiss his fingers wrapped around yours at his base as your spit coats his veiny girth and dribbles down over both of your hands. Jo cards his fingers into your hair and slowly guides you head backwards while you keep your lips sealed around him until just his head is in your mouth again. Again, your eyes remain glued to his face the whole time as you watch his expression change - verdurous eyes and mouth falling shut as a crease forms in his brow and a shaky breath tumbles from his lips, ruffling your hair softly. Eyes cracking open, he peers down at you as if you were some kind of salvation as he guides your mouth back down his length until your lips meet his knuckles again.

“Just like that,” breathing out as his pastoral orbs stay transfixed on you. Keeping a slow pace, he guides your warm, wet mouth up and down his length over and over as he watches drool dribble down your chin and your eyes become watery. Still, you let your saliva continue slicking his member, even pulling back slightly to spit on his tip before wrapping your mouth around him securely again.

“Yeah, don’t be afraid to get it wet, good girl.” Groaning softly as his eyes fall shut again while his fingers grip your hair tighter and he slowly picks up speed - thrusting his hips gently into your mouth as well. 

Suddenly, his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag quietly. Immediately, Jo halts all his movements as he lessens his grip in your hair, and stares down at you with a concerned expression. “Sorry, I got a little carried away,” he admits sheepishly. “Are you okay?” Asking softly as he pulls his tip out of your mouth, but you just blink up at him in confusion.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly as you wipe the spit from your chin and tilt your head into his hand. “I think you’re just a bit bigger than my mouth,” you giggle quietly, and Jo breathes out a chuckle of relief.

“We can stop if you wan-” he starts to offer, but you quickly shake your head at him as a crease forms in your brow and your lips pull into a pout. Jo can’t help but titter at your reaction as his cock twitches approvingly and his cheeks redden slightly from your eagerness.

“I just need to know how to take more of you…” speaking matter of factly, like this was one of those arithmetic problems that made you really have to think. At that Jo folds in half with laughter as he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head. Ruffling your hair with his breath as he straightens again and grins down at you with a prideful gleam in his green eyes.

“I didn’t know my wife was such an overachiever,” teasing as he tightens his grip around your hand again and your pulse thrums in your throat with excitement. Bringing his tip back to your lips, you swiftly wrap your mouth around him again, and Jo begins moving your head once again to wet him completely. “Alright, I’m gonna move your hand like this,” he flattens your palm to his pelvis so the base of his cock is securely held in the notch between your thumb and index finger.

“Now, when you feel my tip hit the back of your throat you’re gonna wanna breathe through your nose like before, flatten your tongue a bit and try to relax your throat,” instructing as his tip begins nudging the back of your throat. Following his instructions as you’re able to get another inch down. “Good, just like that,” he groans softly as his fingers laid over yours twitch. “Now, just keep doing that until you get comfortable with it,” he whispers as you repeat the same action until your lips are able to kiss the back of his hand and your throat feels impossibly full.

“Okay, now just stay there for a moment to get used to it,” murmuring softly as he grips the back of your head lightly to hold you in place. “Focus on your breathing,” he advises when you squirm slightly, and after you force air through your nose he slowly pulls you back - but only halfway this time. 

Repeating this process at a slow pace has Jo breathing unevenly above you and his fingers twitching in your soft locks. Then, as you grow more comfortable with taking him fully down your throat, he starts picking up the pace gradually. As you get comfortable with it, he begins thrusting lightly causing his thighs to shake as he grows closer to climax. His cock twitches once against your tongue as he moans, “Fuck Y/N, I’m gonna cum, can I-” but his words are cut off with a shuddering moan.

You know what he’s asking for though as you lean forward to take more of him in your mouth, and that’s all the confirmation he needs as he stills completely, holding his hips flush to your lips as spurts of his hot seed shoot down your throat. Moaning softly around him as his release slows sends a shockwave of trembles through his taut muscles as he pulls you back and swiftly bends down to slot his lips with yours.

Growing feral again from tasting himself on your lips and tongue as he devours your mouth - moving his hand that was covering yours to cup your other cheek as he pushes you back into the covers. Wasting no time as he kicks his pants off his legs and onto the floor before letting his body lay flush against yours - his half hard cock pressing snugly against your clit. Swirling his wet muscle in your mouth, mixing both of your saliva with his cum, has you moaning wantonly into his mouth as he rolls his hips against your thrumming cunt.

Parting from the kiss with a gasping moan as your arch into him gives Jo the opportunity to descend on your trembling form with ravenous mouth. Making his way down to your thighs, he parts them and lifts your legs onto his shoulders as he begins placing sloppy kisses along the insides of your thighs.

“J-Jo, what are you do-doing?” Murmuring nervously as you try to scoot up the bed, but he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls your slick folds closer to his mouth - trapping you in place - as he grins wide up at you. 

“All questions will be answered at the end of this lesson,” he teases, warm breath fanning your folds causing you to twitch in his hold. All protests are swiftly forgotten as a gasp is ripped from your throat as Jo licks a firm stripe through your folds. Wanton cries tumble from your mouth as you grasp desperately at the sheets while his tongue maps over your glistening lips, circles your clit, and then teases your entrance before repeating the same actions - driving you absolutely mad.

“Jo! Please ‘s t’much!” Whining out as you card your fingers through his hair and try to pull him up, but your husband’s strength isn’t just fabled since he doesn’t budge even an inch. Instead, his tongue swirls at your entrance before pushing past the ring of muscle there to eagerly plunge into your gummy walls. Vibrations are sent from your core, up your ribs to the very ends of your hair as he groans deeply from your taste. 

Jo absolutely devours you, filling the room with the most lewd and salacious slurping sounds as he drinks you whole. Arousal coats your pulsing cunt, his mouth and chin, your thighs as well as the sheets underneath you by now. At some point your desperate attempts to pull him off have turned into you gripping his hair securely for leverage as you buck your hips against his heaven sent tongue to chase your release. Jo just grins approvingly against your drooling pussy as he sticks out his tongue flat to get you a little closer to your climax.

When a frustrated sob leaves your lips, Jo finally takes pity on you as he pulls back - shushing your protests of displeasure with a gentle kiss to your clit - as he positions one of his hands at your core. A pleased sigh bubbles to your lips as he begins teasing your fluttering hole with one thick digit. Slowly sliding it inside and curling it once, twice, and then he starts pumping it in and out with languid strokes. Bringing his grinning lips back to your bundle of nerves, he wraps them around it and alternates between sucking and swirling his tongue. 

Once your fingers are gripping his raven locks again and you're bucking your hips vigorously - trying to ride his digit - he stealthily slides a second digit in and starts pumping a little faster. Throwing in a scissoring motion occasionally to help stretch you out. As your thighs tighten around his head, every muscle in your body taut as you cusp your orgasm, Jo switches from pumping to holding his hand palm up with the two digits together and performing a ‘come hither’ motion. The tips of his calloused fingers prod at a spongy spot in your core that causes tears to brim in your eyes just before your vision goes white. Sucking on your clit more insistently causes stars to begin bursting behind your eyes as an electric current of pleasure travels from deep in your core out through your veins until you’re a drooling, shaking mess. Jo doesn’t stop his movements, but gradually slows them until your crying moans have become uneven breathing. Slowly removing his fingers from your core, and taking the time to lick your sweet arousal from his hand and face before crawling up your body to lay next to you and tuck you securely against his side.

“Any questions?” Inquiring teasingly before placing a loving kiss to your temple, and you tiredly shake your head - only now just catching your breath. “You taste absolutely divine…” he muses softly, looking up at the canopy above. “I’d almost believe you’re a nymph or something… humans just don’t taste that good.” Chuckling in disbelief as his emerald gaze meets your bashful one - a blush burning your face up to the tips of your ears.

“I almost feel bad,” he continues in a gravelly tone as he reaches over to caress your jaw with his thumb. “Fruits and sweet things get scarce here during the winter - I’ll have you to get me through - but I’ll have to figure out where to import them from so you'll have something to get you through too.” Murmuring softly as he presses a kiss to your reddened forehead. After a moment of stunned silence on your part, you finally speak up in a stilted voice.

“I-I don’t re-really like sweets all that mu-much…” you say slowly and Jo opens his mouth to apologize - worried that he ruined the mood. “Bu-but you ta-taste really good to-too… S-so, you’ll be mo-more than enough to ge-get me thro-through…” Stuttering out timidly as you hide against his chest bashfully, still not used to trading compliments in this manner yet. Jo’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his chest starts shaking violently under you with stifled laughter as you peer up at him in shock. He’s covering his mouth with one hand and looking down at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“My little wife - fiery and meek - which one I’ll get from one moment to the next is surprising to say the least.” Musing with sparkling green eyes as he guides your lips - parted from shock - to his so he can ravage your mouth once again. Running his hands over your soft curves to squeeze the fat of your hips as he moves to hover over you again. Sliding his large frame between your parted thighs, he parts from the kiss to lean back on his heels and stare down at your flushed body - open and eager for him. Slowly, he dips down to place open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as he expertly lines his tip up with your leaking entrance. With a slow roll of his hips, Jo’s hardened cock stretches you oh so deliciously. Your velvety walls pulse and clench around him with each inch you take until he’s completely bottomed out, his hips flush with yours.

Despite his hulking form, Jo uses the lightest of touches to guide your thighs as far apart as possible to accommodate his imposing build. Leaving one hand securely on your hip, he brings the other up to brush the hair from your face before lovingly cupping your cheek. Pressing his lips to yours to take your mind off the substantial stretch as you lean into his hand more and will yourself to relax around him. After several moments of adjusting and tender kisses, Jo looks at you with a question in his gaze: ‘are you ready?’ 

With a sure nod and a small smile, he takes the initiative to start moving. As slowly as possible, he drags his hips back until only his tip is still snugly within your walls and then he sheaths himself again with a gentle roll of his hips. Wrapping your hands tightly around his biceps, you hold on tightly until the stretched feeling subsides into one that feels more like gliding. Jo keeps the same pace until your grip on his arms lessens to you gently caressing his muscles as your soft breathing transforms into quiet moans.

Gradually, picking up his pace until the room is filled with the sound of wet skin slapping together as he thrusts into you powerfully. The soft moans that flowed from your lips so sweetly have now become desperate cries interspersed with screams of his name. Keeping a firm grip on your hip so you’re tethered to the bed as he uses the hand on your cheek to tilt your head - revealing more of your throat to him. Dipping his lips closer, he latches onto the crook of your neck as he nips and licks at the sensitive skin until a darkened mark appears. 

Readjusting his hand on your hip slightly so he’s able to press his calloused thumb into your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. Electric shocks of pleasure build in your lower belly causing your gummy walls to clench around Togame’s hardened, twitching member. Hissing into your neck as your walls tighten around him, and your nails drag across his flesh as your back arches off the bed. 

Suddenly the building tension in your lower belly snaps as your senses are flooded with unbridled euphoria and all of your muscles go taught. At the same moment, Togame stills above you - lithe body tense - as you feel his length twitch against that spongy spot deep within your walls, sending overstimulating pulses through you. A warm, full sensation fills your core as his white ropes paint your walls. Then, he lowers himself on top of you - keeping the majority of his weight on his forearms - as you both catch your breath against each other's damp necks.

Once you’ve both come down from your highs, he readjusts to lay beside you - pulling you flush to his chest. Gently he smooths down your hair before peppering kisses to your forehead, over your temple and cheek, down your jaw, the column of your throat to pause at your collarbone and lightly nibble the flesh there. Your soft breathing crescendos into whines until Togame releases a gentle titter against your skin before pulling back to regard your pleasurably exhausted expression with a soft one of his own. 

“So?” Breathing out with a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How was that for your first lesson?” Teasing you lightly with a subtle arch of his brow, viridescent eyes glinting carnally down at you.

“Mmmm,” humming quietly as you return a lazy smile. “Good, but I think I’ll need a refresher tomorrow,” murmuring quietly as you gently caress his chest with your fingertips. Togame releases a low chuckle before pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Of course. I’ll make it an all day lesson if you’d like,” he muses against your forehead. Breath ruffling your hair with a soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest to your fingertips comfortingly. Humming back in agreement with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you press them to his hardened chest. A pregnant pause passes filled with just the sound of quiet breathing.

“I’m grateful to Y/N - you’re braver than me.” Vulnerable verdant eyes meet yours as Togame’s gentle words cut through the room. Blinking up at him in surprise, but before you can speak he abruptly utters, “I love you.”

His expression was so open and vulnerable, but apprehensive at the same time - as if he were readying himself to be stabbed by you - but his eyes held no lie, so you knew his words were true. Oh so slowly you reach up to cup his cheek and caress the apple of it with the pad of your thumb.

“I love you too, Jo.” Murmuring in a genuine tone as your eyes glint with newfound devotion for your husband. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he turns his head into your hand to press his lips to your wrist. No more words are exchanged for the night as a comforting silence falls over the room and you both curl into each other. After some time, his breathing slows, and gradually yours does too as you drift off to sleep in your husband’s loving embrace.

Obligatory: I have no rights to these characters or the works they come from, or any of the art, manga panels or screenshots used in these posts. If you liked this, then here's my Master List to peruse!

[aerynwrites]

Emeralds

Dammon x GN!Reader

A/N: yet another fictional character has invaded my brain lmao. So here’s a little fluffy piece I wrote for Dammon by I love him and wish I could romance him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Love confessions, fluff, so much fluff, kissing, drinking (neither of them are drunk tho), required love.

Part 2

The party is in full swing, the tieflings having brought the wine and the music and so much more to your camp this evening. 

You watch from the sidelines as your companions enjoy the evening in different ways. Shadowheart and Astarion have been keeping to themselves despite your encouragement to participate. Karlach and Wyll are dancing and laughing by the fire, and even Gale is letting loose for once - showing off some small magic tricks to a group of tieflings. 

You’d talked to Halsin and Zevlor, both of them thanking you before wandering off to talk to other or take part in the festivities themselves. Leaving you to your own devices. 

Which…isn’t much at the moment. 

While you enjoy watching the others, you can’t help but search the small crowds for a particular blacksmith. 

You’d met Dammon when you arrived at the grove, and you’re slightly ashamed to admit that you developed a crush on the man from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He’s handsome and kind to boot, going out of his way to help Karlach when so many other things were going on for him and his people. He even promised to help again in the future if he was able. 

How could you not pine after him? 

Your feelings had led you to spend more time than necessary at the grove, claiming to need so trade supplies or talk to someone or another just to see or talk with Dammon while you were there. Your companions got so tired of it you had to start slipping away on your own, not that you minded. 

Dammon always seems happy to see you, talking to you about anything and everything. Just a few days ago he mentioned he was working on something special for you, insisting it was a surprise when you pressed him for more details. 

You’d hoped to see him here at camp with the rest of the refugees, but as the night wears on, your hope dwindles. 

Perhaps he had so much work preparing for their departure to step away from his forge. It’s a reason you’d understand, but the pang of disappointment doesn’t hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up looking, when you finally spot a flash of a familiar green scarf among the milling bodies. 

Dammon makes his way through the camp, nodding in greeting to those he passes before he finally looks to you, eyes shining as his lips tilt upwards. 

He offers you a small wave as he makes his way towards you and you return the gesture, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks as he approaches. 

“Hi,” you offer simply, now lost for words that he’s standing before you. 

Dammon smiles, “Hello,” he says, turning to face the party in front of you both. “I was worried I wasn’t going to make it in time.” 

“I have to admit,” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “I was looking for you,” you tell him, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see you.” 

Dammon turns to look at you again, brows raised in slight surprise. “You were looking for me?” 

Your eyes fall to the ground, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Yes I…” you trail off for a moment before turning to look at him again, changing the subject instead. “What kept you so late at the forge?” 

Dammon studies you for a moment, as if judging your demeanor before his eyes leave yours as his hand falls to the small pack at his side. 

“I was finishing up your gift,” he tells you, patting the bag. “Couldn’t let myself leave without giving it to you.” 

At the mention of you both parting ways soon, you feel yourself deflate slightly. But before you can let disappointment take over what’s supposed to be a night of celebration, you jab a thumb over towards the far end of camp. 

“How about a toast to go along with the surprise?” You ask, silently hoping your proposition doesn’t come off as odd. “I have some wine back at my tent, admittedly a little better than what’s been provided…” 

Dammon laughs at that, lips pulled back into a grin. “I will have to admit my brothers and sisters are not known for their wine making…” he gestures towards you. “Lead the way.” 

Your tent is on the edge of camp, further away from the others and thus away from the center of the celebration. You can still hear the music and raucous laughter, but it’s slightly muted by the distance. 

You retrieve the wine and two cups from inside your tent before taking a seat on one of the pillows laying near the entrance, inviting Dammon to do the same. 

“Sit,” you gesture to a pillow near your own, “I’m sure you’ve been on your feet all day, if I know anything about you.”

Dammon huffs out a chuckle as he nods, setting his bag on the ground beside him before he takes a seat next to you. “Then you know me well,” he affirms, “The work never stops it seems.” 

You try to ignore how close he is as you pour two glasses of rich red wine and hand one to him before taking a sip of your own. “Hm…Yet here you are. Can a gift be so important to take you from your work?” 

You watch as Dammon flushes, his cheeks turning just a few shades darker as he stares into his wine glass. 

“This one is,” He says simply, before looking up to you. “It’s for you.”

His words are so simple, so plain, yet you can hear the sincerity in them. For a moment you’re worried you’re hearing what you want to hear, seeing what you want to see. But Dammon interrupts your thoughts as he sets his glass down carefully to reach into his bag. 

He produces a small long object wrapped in cloth and tied shut. Dammon starts to speak as he unties the string. 

“I don’t know if it’s your preferred weapon,” he says, pulling at the edges of the cloth. “But the idea came to me and I couldn’t stop until it was completed.” 

He fully unwraps the item to reveal a beautifully ornamented dagger. It’s handle is wrapped in fine dark leather, the blade sparkling dangerously in the moonlight. 

The parts of the pommel visible outside the leather are inlaid with small green stones. You reach out to touch them, but pause glancing up at the blacksmith in question. 

He smiles, nodding. “Please, it’s yours after all.” 

You take the dagger from his open hands, surprised to find that it fits perfectly in your hand. The grip isn’t too large or too small. It isn’t too long or short. It fits your hand down to the very last detail. The leather is soft in your palm, well worn but sturdy. You test the blade in your hand flipping it in the air before catching it easily once more. It’s perfectly balanced as well. 

Your eyes fall back to the precious green stones in the handle running your fingers over them to find them smooth beneath your calloused digits. 

“Emeralds,” Damon says softly. “I chose them mainly because they added to the blade's appearance but I remember my grandmother once told me they represent strength, balance and…” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “It’s not important. I hope it’s to your liking.” 

You gaze at him, your mind searching for any knowledge you may have of gemstones, when a memory snaps into place. A passage from a book your mother read to you in a jewelry shop. 

“Look little love,” she said, finger tracing over lines of text in a thick book by the checkout counter. “It tells you of all the gems' meanings.”

She read off a few - sapphires for leadership and royalty, bloodstone for revitalization, jade for success and-

“Oh…look at Emerald!” She said happily. “‘Known as the stone of successful and abundant love, Emeralds open the heart to receive love in all aspects of life. They are thought to encourage you to give and receive love..” your mother awes, “That’s sweet.”

The memory leaves as quickly as it came, and you glance immediately up at Dammon, taking note of the hopeful look he gives you. As if you could ever be disappointed in anything he gave you. 

You swallow around the swell of emotion in your throat, once again trying to shove down the bubble of hope in your chest as you nod. Looking down to the blade in your hand, thumbing the emeralds once more. 

“It’s perfect, Dammon. It’s beautiful, I-“ you shake your head looking up to him again. “I can’t let you just give this to me. This probably cost a fortune in materials-“

Dammon holds a hand up to cut you off, giving his head a firm shake. “It’s a gift. For everything you’ve done for me - for us.”

It’s only now you fully notice how close your are to one another. Dammon’s leg brushes your own, his shoulder bumping yours. And each time he looks over at you, the faint sweetness of the wine on his breath brushes your cheek. 

Once again your eyes fall down to the dagger, fingers trailing over the emeralds as you finally reveal your own knowledge on the gems. 

“I remember a time when I was much younger,” you tell him, noticing he listens to you with rapt attention. “My mother took me shopping with her in the city and we went to this jewelry shop. We weren’t really looking to buy but she loved to look at all the jewels and gemstones.” You smile at the memory. “This particular jeweler had a book on display that listed all the names of the gems and what they mean and my mother read out about a dozen before landing on Emerald…” you trail off, catching the almost imperceptible hitch of breath in Dammon. 

“It said Emerald was also the stone of ‘successful and abundant love’,” you say, finally finding the courage to look back at Dammon, finding his eyes already on you. 

Your voice is a mere whisper now. “She said something about it opening the heart to give and receive love…” your words die on your tongue. “Was this truly only a gift of thanks?” You finally ask, hope burning so bright in your chest you have no chance of stamping it out now. 

Dammon’s bright blue eyes only leave yours to flick down to your lips, and the moment he captures your gaze again his lips are on yours. 

The kiss is a sweet, chaste thing, and you can sense his hesitance as he goes to pull away much too quickly. You manage to stop him as your free hand comes to rest on his shoulder pulling him closer as you return the kiss, telling him without words that you want this too.

Your heart soars when he responds in kind, turning so he’s facing you fully as his hands settle on your hips. You set the dagger down carefully in order to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid this might all be a dream if you don’t hold him close. 

He only pulls away when you both need to take a breath and even then you don’t go far. 

Dammon rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering open after a moment. 

“Should I be ashamed to admit I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you?” 

A small laugh escapes your lips and you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks. “No…because I feel the same way.” 

He practically beams at your words, eyes lighting up as a grin splits his lips. 

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?” 

You chuckle again. “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.” 

Dammon responds eagerly, capturing your lips once more as his arms wind sound at your waist. He raises up on his knees as he does so, pulling you to do the same and removing any space between your bodies as he kisses you with abandon. 

You smile into the kiss when you feel his tail curl to wrap around your waist, as if he can’t get close enough. 

Maybe you can’t either…because from this moment on  you never want to be away from him. 

You are the first to pull away this time, stroking the apple of his cheek gently as you press one last kiss to the corner of his lips. 

You move to sit back on your knees, noticing how Dammon watches you in quiet curiosity as you reach for the delicate silver chain around your neck. 

Your knowledge of gems isn’t the only thing you’d gotten in that jewelry shop all those years ago. 

You pull the necklace from where it hides beneath your shirt, revealing a simple silver pendant with a glittering emerald in the center of it. You lift the chain over your head and hold it out towards Dammon. 

He looks perplexed for a moment, before shaking his head. “You don’t have to give me something in return,” he says gently. “The dagger was a gift.” 

You smile and nod to the necklace still in your hands. “And so is this. Here-“ you say leaning towards him more, “let me.” 

Dammon finally acquiesces, eyes slipping closed as he ducks his head towards you. 

You reach up and slip the necklace over his head, mindful of his horns, and watch as the pendant settles just below his green scarf. Your lips turn upwards as you run your fingers over the smooth stone. 

“It even matches your scarf,” you say playfully, warmth filling your chest as Dammon reaches up to examine the necklace. 

You pick up the dagger he gave you, admiring it again as you speak. “Now we both have something of each other. No matter where we end up.” 

Dammon looks up at you then, eyes glittering with an emotion you can’t quite place, before he reaches out to take your hands in his own. 

“I'm sure we’ll see each other again,” he says, resolve clear in his words. 

And despite not knowing exactly where your journey will take you…

You have a feeling that he’s right.

[theemporium]

hi king!! could i get a uuuuhhh…

"I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

🩷 w/luke? xoxo

we tried something different with a wee historical fiction/prince au🤠they are not my forte but i wanted to try challenging myself. thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

.

Luke had always found the royal festivities to be tedious and long winded. 

Maybe it was because they very rarely focused on him, with most guests taking interest in his parents or his older brothers—Quinn especially, being next in line to the throne. Or maybe—just fucking maybe—he found them tedious and long winded and boring because they were. 

He wasn’t even sure what the reasoning behind this one was, if he was being completely honest. Though, there was never usually a good reason for many of the high class patrons of the kingdom to deny the chance to be invited into the castle or flaunt their pretty fabrics. But Luke had to assume this one was semi-important if people from neighbouring kingdoms—people of importance—were making the journey. 

Still, it did little to make him feel anything but utter boredom as he did his rounds. He flashed the guests a few smiles, usually letting Jack or Quinn take over the conversation. And once he had shown his face for a socially appropriate amount of time, he found himself sneaking off in the shadows to find something to occupy himself before his father’s expected speech. 

Usually, he would find himself sneaking into the kitchens to see if the staff would slip him a few desserts before dinner or some snacks to entertain him with. 

This time around, Luke didn’t even make it to the secret corridor that led down the kitchen before he was pressed against the wall, his breath knocked out of his lungs and something cold pressed against his neck.

“Shit,” you hissed, only your eyes visible to the boy as you glanced over his face. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through him that didn’t have him thinking straight. Maybe it was the excitement for something different to happen at this ball. 

Or maybe Luke just lacked common sense and self-preservation because the only response he managed after a random woman dressed in all black with a knife pressed against his throat was, “pick the wrong prince?” 

You blinked. “You matched the description.” 

“So…I was the right prince?” He asked, something akin to amusement in his voice and it threw you off.

“Do you have your life threatened often?” You questioned, partially rhetorical because a part of you was genuinely interested in the answer. “You seem very calm.” 

“I just assumed if you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already,” he replied honestly, making no move to try and escape your hold. He had a feeling you would bury that knife in him before he even got the chance to take a step.

“I could still kill you if you don’t listen to what I say,” you told him, and he knew better than to question how truthful you were with that promise. 

But still, Luke was young and sheltered and spent far too much of his time trapped in the castle, learning how to be a prim and proper gentleman. There was something thrilling about you and, for reasons his own brain couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t want to lose your attention just yet.

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he noticed your eyes widen slightly in response. 

“It’s like you have a death wish,” you grumbled, the edge of your blade digging a little further into his skin.

“So if I wasn’t your target, who was?” He asked casually, like you were two acquaintances catching up. Like there wasn’t the possibility of someone turning the corner and finding the two of you. Like there weren't guards already starting to notice his absence. 

“None of your business,” you snapped, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wondered if you were contemplating whether or not he was worth killing and adding the extra hassle for.

“It seems like my business when you have a blade to my throat,” Luke added cheekily. 

“You have no sense of survival,” you told him like it was an insult. 

He grinned. “Perks of being a prince, I assume.” 

“I don’t have time for this,” you grumbled and, in a blink of his eye, you were already three paces away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling in his chest the second you were no longer pressed against him, the second your eyes were no longer on him. “Will I see you again?” 

You paused, tilting your head to the side. He couldn’t see your mouth but he had the strongest sense that you were smirking beneath your mask. 

“Depends what kind of enemies you plan to make, Your Highness.”

.

[porcelainseashore]

VtM Secret Santa Writers 2024

IT'S ON!! We have enough interest to get this party started (last I counted was 73.9% out of 46 votes). A massive thank you to everyone!

This will be the first VtM Secret Santa event for all aspiring writers in our community—yes, I see you, and I hear you! In the spirit of giving, we will exchange pieces of writing of our favorite canon characters in the VtM universe, with reader-insert or not, and have some festive fun together.

Guidelines

Open to writers of ALL SKILL LEVELS!

No AI-generated content.

No hate speech, bigotry, or discrimination.

Word count between 500-2000. Short story, prose, flash fiction, and the like are accepted. If you want to submit something outside of this limit, i.e. poetry with less words, please DM me.

Friendly reminders will be sent out to complete your gift in time!

Timeline

Sign ups open from November 5th - 12th.

Secret Santas notified from November 13th - 14th.

Submit your gift by December 21st to porcelainseashore@gmail.com.

Gift delivery by your certified elf (me!) from December 22nd - 23rd.

Feel free to post the pieces you have written on your socials from December 24th onwards. You can use the tag #vtm secret santa writers 2024 or tag me and I’ll reblog your works!

Sign ups

>> SIGN UP SHEET LINK <<

Here, you can choose which VtM canon characters you are willing to write for and open to receive writings of, as well as other important info!

Secret Santas will be matched with their respective giftees according to the responses and randomized as much as possible.

If you have any questions or concerns, you can reach out to me via DM or email at porcelainseashore@gmail.com.

Dividers by @saradika

[stars-forever]

Hey writers and fanfiction fans! This is a reminder that prompts are still available for the last Flash Fest of 2024 “Festival of Prompts”, that I am hosting with @character-a-character-b.

If you haven't claimed your prompt yet, now's a great time to join in the fun and let your writing shine!

Our Discord Server Link is: https://discord.gg/pCjeXgV4VV

[firefly-in-darkness]

A Christmas Miracle in the Making...

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt → Shake Up Christmas by Train

A/N → A submission for @justagirlinafandomworld Flash Fiction Winter/Xmas challenge 🩵

You were determined to shake things up and bring the festive spirit to the Avengers Compound.

“Come on Wanda, don’t you wish to fill the world with happiness?” You exclaimed and handed a box of decorations to her.

Steve nodded along absentmindedly and continued to untangle the fairy lights.

“Think of the happiness, and the Christmas magic, and love...” You trailed off as the doors opened and in walked Bucky, a pine tree slung over his shoulder.

Wanda nudged Peter, and they smirked at the pair who had yet to confess their feelings. Maybe, a Christmas miracle needed a forcing hand.

[suzannahnatters]

Flash Fic: The Girl in the Tower

Imagine this: you are a girl, locked in a tower.

Does it matter why? Let’s say your parents made a bargain with a witch—a golden-haired daughter for a bunch of parsley. So now you are the girl in the tower. Your only company (apart from the witch, but her visits are worse than nothing) is a book.

The book is full of stories, all the same. Once upon a time, a girl was cursed by a witch to live alone, until a prince rescued her with a true love’s kiss. They lived happily ever after.

You don’t know what alone means, because you’ve never been anything else. Still, the book insists that true love is the best thing that could possibly happen to a girl.

You put your faith in the book. You make songs about love.

Sometimes, even in the heart of the forest, someone hears your song. You have a marvellous voice, as golden as your hair. The book assures you that handsome princes cannot resist the golden singing of golden girls.

Except that they do.

Some block their ears and hurry away (they think you are a wood-siren, luring them to their doom). Others stop only to tell you your hair is a vanity and so are your songs.

One wishes to behold your face, but the climb is too daunting.

Years pass. You begin to understand what alone means. Alone means that you could gnaw your own flesh if it meant that someone, anyone, would climb your tower.

At last, one day, someone does. He hears your singing, and he doesn’t block his ears. He climbs your golden hair, and says it is glorious.

He says your songs are beautiful. He says he must go, because his true love awaits him at home.

This is a possibility for which the book never prepared you, but it makes perfect sense. Only true love could give a man courage in the face of song, strength to climb a tower, heart to comfort a lonely girl.

You gnaw on your own flesh and you feel tenderly grateful to his true love, whom you have never seen.

He returns. (You never quite believed he would, because why would he, when he has a true love at home?) Alone doesn’t need to be your name, he says. How many years was it since you felt hope? Perhaps, beyond this tower, your own love is waiting for you.

Or perhaps you’ll slip, and the witch will find you out. She’ll blind the prince, cut off your hair and abandon you both in a howling wilderness.

You’ll be free, but you won’t go looking for a love of your own, not yet. You’ll look for him, because he may not be your love, but he's the nearest thing you have. You’ll never rest till you’ve healed his hurts and sent him home.

Imagine this: that after all there are more ways than one to love, and all of them are true.

-----

I wrote this flash fic for the Pilgrim Artists' Festival, a small Christian festival of art, music, and words which runs every year in Tasmania's Huon Valley. The theme for the 2023 festival was "Beauty in the Everyday." One of the most underrated, beautiful things in the world, in my opinion, is platonic friendship between men and women. Like many of us I grew up in a world that believed men and women can't be friends - they can only be sexual partners. As a thirty-something chronically single woman, my friendships with men, even married men, are meaningful and lifegiving to me on a level that I'm not even going to try to be normal about.

The Pilgrim Artists' Festival opens every year for submissions of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, art, and music from Christian, Nicene-Creed-affirming artists, including children and adults, anywhere in the world. There is a different prompt each year and a 500 word limit on literary entries. There are also dozens of prizes available - check them out and submit here.

Other Pilgrim Artists' Festival flash fic: The Gardens of Hades Strange the Living Final Transmission

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 30 — Bondage & Christmas Lights

↳ A/N: This is for entertainment and fiction purposes only. Bondage with Christmas lights involves electrical wires and these cables are far more dangerous than standard ropes/BDSM tools and thus they are more difficult to cut in the chance of an emergency. I do not condone the use Christmas lights as bondage.

↳ Summary: George has a festive idea he wants to try.

↳ Word Count: 1123

Warnings: 18+, bondage and restraints, dirty talk, sex (unspecified if protected or unprotected)  

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

George wasn’t much of the type of guy to want to try crazy things in the bedroom; in all honesty, that was fine with you. The two of you found your niche and what worked in your relationship (and what didn’t) and you kept to that. There was nothing wrong with that. 

So it was quite the surprise when one night, while falling into a session of heavy petting and tongue-led kissing on your bed, George broke away to declare that he wanted to try something new. It was doubly the surprise when he left the room and came back moments later with an orange extension cord. 

“What the fuck is that for?” you questioned without hesitation. 

“You know we like our handcuffs,” George explained with a shit-eating grin as he bent down beside the bed to plug in the extension cord, “but, what if we put a festive spin on it?”

From behind his back he pulled a brand new box of LED Christmas string lights.

Your eyebrows raised, “You’re going to do what exactly with those?”

George shrugged modestly and looked down at the box, replying passively, like it was nothing that out of the ordinary, “Tie you up.”

“Oh my God—”

“Well, just your wrists. I’m no shibari master…is that what it’s called?” George rambled as he flipped the box of lights over in his hand to skim the back. As he rambled half-nervously about all that he did not know about Japanese bondage art, you couldn’t help but admire him with a fond smile.

From your spot on the bed, you had a front row view of him standing there in only his boxers, semi-hard beneath the snug fabric, and his eyebrows furrowed deeply. It was easy to tell he was treating in unfamiliar territory — he always got a little rambly when he was nervous, talked a little too much and often got himself in deeper trouble by doing just that — but the immense trust you had in him thudded through your veins. You shifted on the bed up onto your knees and offered your wrists out to him.

Your simple action had him halting mid-sentence as he glanced over at you, his wide-eyed gaze dropping between your face and your wrists held out towards him side by side, palms up. He swallowed, “You’re sure?”

You shrugged, “Nothing we haven’t done before, really. I trust you.”

Like an electrical surge, he was throwing himself at you for a fierce kiss. You giggled into his mouth and framed his face with your hands, sharing in his eager kisses before he was pulling away, breathless and grinning. 

“Okay, lay back.” he instructed, already sliding his pinky under the thin tape on the box to open it with a rip. He flipped open the flimsy cardboard lid and lifted out the perfect coil of lights. 

You situated yourself back on the bed, in only your bra and panties, already smiling with anticipation. Knowing the routine well, you draped your arms above your head and overlapped your wrists.  

George unraveled the string lights and bent down to plug them into the extension cord. In a flash, the entire string lit up in brilliant warm white dots of light, illuminating the room and both of your awe-struck expressions. The rawness of human wonder. 

And then, George was straddling your body, a knee on each side, intensely focused as he carefully tied your wrists together in the string lights, being careful not to rip off any of the tiny bulbs or hurt you in the process. He explained that they were LEDs so they shouldn’t get hot against your skin and that he would leave them somewhat loose so if you had to break free for any reason, it wouldn’t be too difficult. He always wanted to make sure you were more than safe, no matter what. 

Lastly, he looped the end of the lights through one of the posts of the bed so when he pulled on it, your tied wrists would be pulled tight towards the bed frame. With a testing tug, he smiled proudly at his handiwork. 

“Good?” he asked you simply, importantly. 

You nodded, “Good. Great.”

You curled your knees towards your chest in an invitation for him to take your panties off. 

George got you both out of your underwear and then turned off the bedside lamps, sending the room into darkness apart from the star-like light from the string that bound you. Even in the limited lighting, you could still see the way he was smiling ear to ear as he got you both situated. 

He spoke wonders to you, filthy words of lust and adoration, prepping you to take him with a generous tongue and nimble fingers, always keeping one hand on the end of the string of lights. Always in control. 

He took you like that in a way that balanced on the line between fucking and making love; a precipice on which your sexual relationship thrived. Just the right amount of sweetness, just the right amount of rough, a perfect inbetween that always had you thanking your damn stars you found each other. 

George tugged on the string of lights a little more, tightening the pull around your wrists, speaking down to you between breaths, “Look at my most beautiful little decoration. Prettiest little thing; so dazzling and sparkling and festive.”

You pulled your legs up towards your chest, angling them up and outwards to give him more room, to invite him deeper, panting out a pleading chant of, “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Mhm?” he twirled his hand once to wrap the string lights around his palm for a more secure grip, his eyebrows raising as he looked down at you dotted in little lights, the shadows playing off your pretty face and shuddering with every hard thrust he gave you. But almost more than this, his eyes were captivated by the way the light caught the diamond of your engagement ring, sending glints of light across the wall above the bed. 

And then he set the end of the string between his teeth to give himself his hands free to yank your hips up a little more to meet his. His fingers pressed into your thighs and your hips like dough, holding you in place just where he needed you to fuck you deeply over and over and over. You wanted to stare at him, the way he looked with the lights that bound you between his teeth, casting shadows over his handsome face, but it was growing increasingly difficult as he so easily started to make stars appear in your vision. 

In the tangle of Christmas lights, your hands bunched into fists of pure pleasure.

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[quillthrillswriting]

my (quillthills) ao3 ATLA fanfiction masterlist:

"if happiness were a tangible thing, it would be you":

Katara is tired of the iron grip that Emperor Ozai has over the kingdom of Rosas, tired of watching him spread his influence across the mainland. When Sokka comes home from the palace with the knowledge of an impending tragedy, Katara is left to wish on the stars in hope that they will offer salvation. They do, in the form of the Avatar, a boy transformed into a wishing star almost a century earlier. Her wish for hope is fulfilled, in the form of a boy known to be the embodiment of hope. Will that same hope be enough to stand against a man powered by the dreams and wishes of an entire kingdom? OR: ever since pixina put the idea in my head of a kataang wish AU, i haven't been able to stop thinking about it. this fic is the result<3 if you haven't seen wish (2023) yet, don't worry! you don't really need to to understand this fic:)

"so i will go to secret gardens in my mind":

after he and katara's escape to the palace gardens the night prior, avatar aang, the king of all four elements, cannot stop thinking of the beautiful dark-haired water princess. misunderstandings and deliberate deception constructed by regent ozai makes the reconciliation of these star-crossed lovers more complicated than necessary. OR: the second of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"you’re in the wind, i’m in the water":

aang has only just been crowned as the avatar, the king of all four elements, and already, he struggles to find his footing in a society without any of his people. a dance with princess katara of the water tribe, and a subsequent escape to the palace gardens, helps him find that footing. OR: the first of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"there's a star-man, waiting in the sky":

a flash-fiction atla modern AU in which yue passes away from cancer early in life, and sokka becomes an astronaut so that he can go to space and be close to the moon she always loved so much ☾

"the teenager in the iceberg"- multichap

i feel like a lot of people have wondered how different atla as a whole would be if aang had been older, so in this au, aang was frozen at age 16! naturally, i just had to flip aang being after katara from day one to katara now having a crush on aang from the very beginning. essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder. also, cmon. i just had to write a new version of the scene where zuko and aang meet.

"you with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes"- multichap

Avatar Aang had been told time and time again that to venture across the surface of the sea when the moon had risen and claimed what rightfully belonged to it was to sign your own death certificate. And yet, he found himself here, at the water’s edge, skipping stones, lost in thought. To be the Avatar had once meant something, years before. Before the four tribes had separated, scattered to the ends of the earth. Those who formed fire itself chased the other tribes from the surface lands, those who could move rock and metal burrowed underground, those who flowed with the air sent ships with great sails across the sea until they reached towering mountain spires. Those who bent water, who bent blood… they retreated to the depths of the sea, and with time, they became a part of it. Legend told of the way in which the Water tribes had adapted, two legs smoothed into razor sharp scales and voices twisted into something dark and luring. Now, they were the monsters known as sirens. OR: a KATAANG AU where tui and la have split the earth into the sea and the sky. aang is a winged avian, while katara is a siren<3

"well, my (not-yet) boyfriend's in a band":

in which the gaang are in a band, and when it comes time for them to write an original song to submit to the republic city music festival, aang is...suspiciously good at writing love song lyrics OR kataang, if they were in an indie band and aang didn't know how to communicate his feelings except through writing love songs

"i’m no longer a kid, and everything has changed":

after aang falls to azula's lightning strike in the caves of the earth kingdom, toph, sokka, and katara are left to pick up the pieces. katara's healing abilities are put to the test in the weeks that follow, but she finds herself seeing aang in a different light as she realizes how much he's endured since emerging from the iceberg only months before. OR: the weeks-long gap between the end of season two and the beginning of season three of ATLA is finally at least partially expanded upon. ALSO OR: a bit of aangst, or kataangst, if you will

"can you see me using everything to hold back?":

Katara's life after saving the world was filled with a whirlwind romance with Fire Lord Zuko that became a loveless, controlling marriage she is no longer happy in. After finding out the extent to which her husband has betrayed her trust, she escapes to find home in the person she has missed most during her time in the Fire Nation. OR: The common Zutara trope of "Zuko helps Katara escape an unhealthy relationship with Aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

"my heart is yours, it’s you that i hold on to":

The war has been ended, Ozai has been rendered helpless, and Zuko has reclaimed the Fire Nation with the promise of peace. Everything that Aang has been working towards since the moment Katara freed him from the iceberg has been done. He's saved the world. Now, all that's left is to confess to his forever girl. OR Aang wakes up the morning after him and his friends saved the entire world, and the first (and only) thing he can think about is Katara. When they get a chance to talk, the two take a walk down memory lane.

"shining down on me":

sokka can't stop thinking about yue. she comes to him in his dreams, and try as he might, he just can't move on. inspired by the song "my love, mine all mine" by mitski

"the avatar's adventures in parenting":

aang being a bad parent is CHARACTER ASSASSINATION and i won't stand for it. i just know that him and katara wouldn't be focused on just passing on bending, but the *teachings* and ideals of both of their tribes to all their children, regardless of bending status. OR, aang and katara become parents and aang finds out that parenting is his proudest achievement, more so than stopping a hundred year war or holding the position of avatar

"i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said":

katara speaks to each member of the gaang individually and finds out that aang has been head over heels with her for years and no one ever bothered telling her. this takes place after the fire lord is defeated, but in my version, they never kissed in the finale:oo katara is basically dumb in terms of love and so is aang and they are peak miscommunication trope and theres too much zutara content and not enough kataang OR katara interrogates each of her friends (toph, sokka, and zuko) and comes to the conclusion that she has lived for years without the kind of love most people wish for their entire lives

if any of these speak to you, they can all be found on my ao3 account:)<3 happy reading!!!