shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2024-08-19 10:10 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2024-08-19 10:10 pm
Vert #3
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Privacy
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Vert #3. Security
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire 2024 Day Two Main Stage), photography, silhouette, life drawing, postcard, yarn
Word Count: 140
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Dallu
Warnings: Sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Prompt is fairly tongue-in-cheek, lol.
The thing about close-quarters living, like on a ship--or in a Northern settlement in the dead of winter--is privacy becomes a luxury you can do without.
Oh, sure, you make an effort to find a quiet corner, someplace you won't be in the way; and people around you pretend they don't see or hear anything. That's only polite. But you stop caring that you might have an audience.
And while Taz does technically have a cabin--with a door--that locks--more often than not, the warmth of Dallu's hands on her waist, her hips, her breasts; the taste of his tongue in her mouth; the hum of his racing heart keeping time with hers; comes in a wave of now that carries her right back to her days as a junior sailor who didn't have that option.
Privacy is overrated, anyway.
Story: Privacy
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Vert #3. Security
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire 2024 Day Two Main Stage), photography, silhouette, life drawing, postcard, yarn
Word Count: 140
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Dallu
Warnings: Sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Prompt is fairly tongue-in-cheek, lol.
The thing about close-quarters living, like on a ship--or in a Northern settlement in the dead of winter--is privacy becomes a luxury you can do without.
Oh, sure, you make an effort to find a quiet corner, someplace you won't be in the way; and people around you pretend they don't see or hear anything. That's only polite. But you stop caring that you might have an audience.
And while Taz does technically have a cabin--with a door--that locks--more often than not, the warmth of Dallu's hands on her waist, her hips, her breasts; the taste of his tongue in her mouth; the hum of his racing heart keeping time with hers; comes in a wave of now that carries her right back to her days as a junior sailor who didn't have that option.
Privacy is overrated, anyway.