#he is very snug in the tub

[enniewritesathing]

♨️

[deathsmallcaps]

While touring on the San Diego duck vehicles, we actually caught a glimpse of the navy training dolphins and sea lions. According to the guide, the sea lions were much better at being food motivated and trustworthy, but the dolphins were a bit more agile and quick, so that’s why they use both. They find and ‘tell’ the military where underwater mines are and such

I’m generally against the military, and I’m kind of against using animals in such dangerous jobs. But regardless of my feelings, it’s happening. And I’ve been wondering for a while how ethically involved are these animals. Like, are they domesticated? Are dolphins really that smart, enough that they can consent to this sort of thing? I know they need lots of mental stimulation, like border collies but even more. And I figure this is the right post to ask.

(Also for the record I am 99% sure the duck vehicle company respected the animals well, and asked us not to feed them at all. It’s been about 2 years since I went so I may not remember everything but they seemed good to me)

I think it's a common misconception that domesticating animals is somewhat like enslaving them. It really is more of a symbiotic relationship. No wild animal would have willingly put up with early humans if they didn't get something out of it. Wolves wouldn't have stayed with us and become dogs if they weren't getting food and safety out of it. Many large herbivores that are now domesticated could and would have easily trampled their early human captors or broken their enclosures open if they didn't have a reason to stay. Sometimes individual animals still do if we don't give them what they need.

The animals that have stayed with us for thousands of years have evolved to cooperate with us better. Dogs have additional facial muscles around their eyes that wolves lack in order to mimic human facial expressions. Sheep grow their wool perpetually while their wild counterparts don't because a bigger fleece means they're more likely to be allowed to breed and be kept around. Domestic dairy cows produce much more milk than wild bovine species and domestic hens lay more eggs. Do you know how energy costly producing eggs or milk is for an animal? It's pretty intense! They wouldn't be able to do that if we hadn't given them the food and safety from predators and the elements to.

And we really need to show these animals respect and gratitude for what they give us by taking excellent care of them. They gave up a lot to be with us, often including the means to take care of themselves in the wild. That's a huge reason why I'm not against using animal products, but I hate factory farming. They are still living, breathing creatures with needs and feelings. They deserve a comfortable life and, when the time comes, a humane death.

[satinestales]

❝erotic melancholia❞ | qimir x reader

pairing: qimir x reader

summary: healing your wounds and sore muscles took longer than expected, so qimir decided to offer you his bathtub in the middle of his cave. along with some side offerings.

warnings: this is more of a short scribble so if you decide to jump in, have a nice stay and enjoy the food, starring very soft and gentle qimir - something to relax to i guess, soft physical touch, sensual touches, comfort, massage?

this is very comforting and romantic, i'd say so all you horndogs can move, with love <3 this is how i want osha and qimir to interact once, GIVE ME THEM FOREHEAD TOUCHES

a/n: as i was writing this a fucking spider dropped on me from the ceiling- i may have had a heart attack and i pissed my pants a little

now playing, 13 beaches by lana del rey

The echo of dripping water resonated through the dimly lit cave, mingling with the soft hum of distant waves crashing against the rocky shore outside. The natural formation of the cave walls created a snug, sheltered alcove where a makeshift bathtub had been fashioned from smoothed stones and lined with soft moss. Small glowing crystals embedded in the rock provided a gentle, otherworldly light that bathed the cavern in a warm, ethereal glow.

You stood at the entrance of the cave, your body aching from the skirmish with the Jedi knights earlier that day. Bruises and shallow cuts adorned your skin, and your muscles protested with every movement. Qimir knelt beside the stone tub, pouring a mixture of healing herbs and soothing oils into the steaming water, the aroma of exotic alien flowers, and restorative essences filling the air.

"I think it's ready now," he said, his voice echoing softly in the enclosed space. He looked up at you with concern etched in his features. "This should help with the soreness."

You managed a weary smile, your gratitude evident despite your exhaustion. "Thank you." You simply smiled, adoring Qimir from the other side of the cave. As much as you appreciated Qimir's work and his loyalty to you, you kept your distance. Even if your heart desired the opposite.

Qimir stood up, giving you space to approach the tub. You noticed he had even placed a new robe and new clothes. Looking at them as you made your way to them, you appreciated he matched your size and taste. You felt a surge of warmth dancing in your chest as you looked at him, his unspoken admiration clear in every thoughtful gesture.

He was beautiful in the dim lit cave, the light reflecting over his sharp features. You didn't want to push him away, but you weren't comfortable taking your clothes in front of him. You didn't mind him seeing you bare, but his stare as you'd take of your clothes made you uneasy and caused a strange feeling in your stomach.

As if he could read your thoughts, which he probably did, he apologised and made his way to the corner of the cave, to make you more comfortable.

"When you're ready, let me know." his voice echoed through the cave, startling you as you carefully took of your robe and pants, gently throwing them on the ground above the tub.

With a deep breath, you stepped into the warm water, the heat instantly beginning to soothe your battered body. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the tension started to melt away.

Behind the corner of the cave, Qimir lingered for a moment, ensuring you were under the water before he spoke again.

"May I?" he asked, tenderness in his voice. Smile creeped its way to your lips, his voice warming you more than the water around you.

You opened your eyes and gave him a small nod. "You may."

As he appeared again, he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that familiar, adorable way.

As he quietly entered the cave, the sounds of the island and the soft hum of the Force filled the space, you sank deeper into the tub. The warmth seeped into your bones, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing you were safe and cared for in Qimir's hidden sanctuary.

Qimir slowly made his way around you to kneel down behind your back. You kept your eyes closed, dozing off in the warm water that melted your pain away. Slowly, you felt Qimir's hand reach your hair, lifting it up and gently braiding it into a small braid. As he finished your hair, he moved it to the side over your shoulder, leaving your back exposed.

"If you won't be comfortable with anything, tell me." He leaned to your ear, whispering, not wanting to startle you from your peaceful setting.

You murmured something back, too distracted by the comfort of it all. The water hugged and caressed your wounds, the chilliness of the cave and Qimir's hands slowly massaging your shoulders. You wanted to melt, and you were sure you were about to.

Qimir's fingers danced their way around your sore muscles, around your neck, and between your shoulder blades. You liked the way they made you feel relaxed and at peace, clearing your mind from intrusive thoughts. When he offered you his tub, you were sceptical at first and didn't want to listen to him. Now you were glad you did as for all the pain and soreness dissapered, melted into the water and Qimir's fingers.

You were so lost in his touch that you were unaware of the noises you began to make, Qimir's lips turning into a soft smile. He felt proud that he made you feel comfortable and safe after the rough day you went through. He secretly wanted to jump inside and enjoy the smells and hot water together, but he respected your privacy, acknowledging you weren't that familiar with each other yet.

He didn't mind. You were close to him, and that was all that mattered to him at that moment.

"Where did you learn to do this?" you asked out of nowhere, wanting to break the silence no matter how comforting it was. Qimir's voice felt way warmer.

"Friend of mine." he replied, not stopping his movements around your right shoulder blade. "She taught me a lot."

A small sting of jealousy ran through your heart as he mentioned the unknown being. You felt ridiculous. He was obviously very charming, and it would be stupid to think he didn't share himself with anyone over his life.

"She died a long time ago," he added, sensing the tension forming around you. If Qimir's hands didn't hold you in place, you'd sink yourself under the water.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, his hands now around your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You didn't hear him answer, and the urge to turn around and apologise again grew stronger with every passing second.

"You mentioned your arms hurting too," he spoke, changing the conversation. "Do you want me to take a look?" he stopped massaging your neck, but his hands never left your skin, letting them rest on your shoulder.

"If it won't bother you," you replied quietly, staring at your feet below the water.

"I wouldn't ask if it did," you heard him smile, his fingers moving in slow circles on your skin.

"You can jump in while you do it." You didn't know what magical force let you say your thoughts out loud, but it was too late. You felt redness overtake your face as the silence kept stretching.

"Do you want me to?" Qimir wanted to make sure he heard you right before stripping himself.

"I want you to fix my arms." You coughed, hoping he didn't marge into your head and read your thoughts as he pleased to do many times before.

You wanted to speak again as another silence took over, but Qimir's hands leaving your shoulders and the sound of his clothes dropping right next to yours shut you up.

At the moment you saw his bare ankles next to you, you dropped your gaze down, nervously playing with your hands below the water. You heard a splash when Qimir sinked into the water, the close proximity melting your thoughts away. You dared to look up at him, choking on the air.

His jawline and high cheekbones prominent in the light, his two small pigtails on the opposite side of his head exposing his forehead and sharp eyes. He was one of the most beautiful men you've ever seen and no matter how cliche it sounded in your head, you didn't dare to deny it.

His chest glittered as the droplets found his way around him, the water reaching to his hips. He was ethereal.

You notice a small smirk on his lips as he lets you brush your stare on him before reaching out for your arm underwater, his eyes never leaving yours. He could have dropped his gaze and look down. He would easily see through the water, but he didn't. Instead, he admired your face, his fingers dancing its way around your arm to find the tense muscles.

"What is your mask made of?" You genuinely wondered, wanting to ask since you saw it deactivate lightsabers. You watched him now concentrating on fixing your arm, his fingers moving in sharp but tender movements.

"Cortosis," his voice low and raspy, his presence intoxicating. He radiated warmth, beating the hot bath he prepared for you. "Like the one we used as younglings." he explained further, his hand reaching your bicep, making him move closer to you. If you'd extend your hand, you wouldn't be able to stretch it fully before meeting Qimir's chest. The proximity and soft touch drove you crazy.

"So it's just you and the Force," you added before he could finish his further explanation. Despite staring at his hands, you didn't miss the acknowledging look he gave you.

"And whatever you bring with you." he whispered, nodding his head, his eyes falling back to your arm. When he finished your right hand, he reached out for your left, but before he could do so, you hid both of your arms behind your back, looking up at him with amusement playing on your lips.

"And what do you bring there with you?" you wondered, your gaze dancing between his lips and his black eyes. His half lidded eyes made you switch position so you could press your legs together. He didn't miss it even tho he acted like he did.

"My partner, I hope." he tilted his head, trying to read your expression. Nodding, acknowledging his answer, you didn't move. You let your eyes drop to his chest, around his nipples, fown to his abdomen. And back up.

Nervously, you played with your fingers behind your back as the silence took its place again. But this time, it was different. The awkwardness vanished, and something else took over.

"Have you found one yet?" Your mind traced back to the person he mentioned a few minutes back, wondering if she was his partner and he lost her. Or maybe he never found one, forever wondering for someone to fill his soul.

"I think I may have." he replied, moving slowly towards you, the water hugging his torso. "But I'm not sure if the person found me."

He was right in front of you. You could swallow his breath. His deep, longing eyesz scanning yours, his lips partially opened. His hair loosened up, falling over his forehead.

"She did," you whispered back, letting his hand caress your cheek before meeting his lips with yours. The softness of his lips made your knees betray you, but his arms were there to catch you. Your hands moved from your back to rest against his chest, feeling his soft glow skin. Your fingers drew shapes around his scars, wanting to love and learn every single one. His arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you even closer to him. Wanting to feel every inch of you.

Candles flickered around the cave, casting a soft, golden glow that danced with the shadows. The fragrance of the candles mingles with the warmth of the water, creating an atmosphere of serene tranquility.

You leaned back, enveloped by the soothing embrace of the water and Qimir's arms around you. His chest is firm and reassuring, his lips soft and sweet as you imagined clouds would feel. You felt his steady heartbeat, a reminder of their presence and yearning.

In that moment, all pain and worries melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and security. Qimir's arms were your sanctuary, always ready to catch you when you stumbled and to hold you when you needed it most.

The feeling was a blend of love and ecstasy, as if every touch and whispered word from Qimir's lips was a promise of unwavering yearning and affection. The chill in the air around you only enhanced the cozy, intimate warmth you shared, making this moment all the more precious.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the blissful combination of the hot bath, the ambient candlelight, and the tender embrace of Qimir's lips. In his arms, you didn't find just comfort, but a profound, soulful connection that filled you with an enduring sense of peace and love.

[jupiter-esque]

Hi!!! I saw that you write for Howls and I was wondering if we could get some hcs in how his so cares for him? Whether that be after a tough day physically or mentally or silly pampering him. How does Howl want and receive his comfort?

Preen

note: sort of went on an unofficial hiatus lol, but im finally on holiday yippee :)))) anyway i'm sure I've done this sort of request or smth before but I just love howl so much, he deserves all the love mwah <3

Warnings: nthn, just clingy howl and lots of sickening fluff.:3

Howl Pendragon x reader

It feels like the exhaustion is trying to imbed itself within his bones.

Howl struggles past the front door, His feet dragging as the castle door close with a resounding ding! signaling a new and hopefully much more calming scenery outside. He can't think of that now though.

bed, sleep, rest..now...

he could topple over at any moment.

The aroma of hot savory onion soup overtook his senses, he could almost feel the heady warmth of the liquid down his throat, burning away the worries and hardships of the day leaving him sated and drowsy. He could barely wait.

"Oh no you don't." Suddenly, soup didn't seem all that important.

Nimble fingers slip past his shoulders, pushing away his coat and fussing with its buttons. Howl's eyes landed on you blearily as he called out your name dreamily while reaching for you, his fingers smoothing out over any exposed skin he could reach and nuzzling into your blushing neck.

"Missed you." He mumbles quietly, his breath tickling you slightly. He pulled you in tighter as if trying to carve himself into you, trying to mold your bodies and souls into one. Too bad your offending apron and clothes prevented him.

"Poor baby." You coo as you brush through his hair, fingers carding through messily strewn strands and pressing into worn out muscles. "Okay time for a bath, then dinner."

"Nooo diner-"

"No, c'mere." You grinned with an air of finality, ushering him up the stairs ensuring he doesn't try flopping onto the cushy sofas in front of a grumbling calcifer, you're too used to his tricks and it comforts him to fall into your familiar routine. You sneak some more wood to the fire demon, a silent promise from his side to keep the thick onion soup bubbling and the bathtub upstairs equally toasty.

************************

Howl's staring into the soapy water, helplessly letting you wash his hair and scrub the grime off his skin, occasionally he plays with your free hand. you're both so very naked, so very vulnerable yet peacefully cleaning and gently caring for each other. A silly smile overtakes his lips as he remembers his flirtatious attempt for more...unorthodox intentions while you rolled your eyes and cheekily pushed him into the tub.

It should feel like a snug fit in the tub but magic has its perks and you're both settled into a pool of bubbles that would comfortably fit around three to four people. Howl shivers once more while you splashed water onto his richly dark hair. It hung limply over his eyes as you rubbed his back and pressed deliciously into his taught tendons, it took everything in him to not wantonly moan into your ear so he only let soft ragged breaths escape him as he gripped at your palms where you were sat behind him.

He could feel your smirk. You truly were his undoing.

Just as howl was about to let his eyes fall close and sleep to overtake him you pushed at his shoulders and complained loudly.

"Bath time is over you big oaf, get off i cant breath!"

Howl immediately saw his opening to tease you.

"I don’t know” He airly replied, slumping further into you while pretending to sleep and become dead-weight on top of your struggling form “It’s so comfortable here, I could just rest for a while~”

“Howl.” You warned.

“You wouldn’t mind right?”

You tugged at his hair with slight harshness

“Ouch!”

“Out! You’re clean. Now stop pouting.”

************************

Finally in fresh night-clothes, bellies full of soup and crunchy buttery toast, you're longing for sleep but the need to be in each others presence is stronger so you move to the living room in front of calcifer's hearth as he grumbles away about how much work he does around the castle. Howl shushes him with more firewood while you tuck little Markle to bed, before returning to cuddle up on the loveseat with a blanket wrapped round to stay cozy.

Eventually you find yourself preening through Howl's nearly-dry hair again whilst he settles his head against your chest and the rest of his body lays between your open thighs with his back facing you. All is quiet for a moment, only calcifer's crackling and your calming breaths fill the room as you rub at his scalp and untangle stray locks when a thought strikes you.

"Howl, dear."

"Hmm?" He hums tiredly letting one eye open.

"You know, you're a lot like a bird." You put a finger over his lips before he starts scowling about his more beastly raven-like form " In the sense that you always like your hair played with, a lot like how birds like their feathers preened. Especially by their bird partner."

You smiled down at him openly, he couldn't help but smile back.

"Oh? So that makes you my bird partner now, doesn't it?" He had one eyebrow raised while peeking up at you.

"Of course." You grinned, playing along.

"We'd make wonderful Swans then." He said with a serious expression.

"Why is that?" You blinked curiously, wondering why he was reaching closer for your face.

"Because they mate for life.''

and he followed his silent promise with a deep kiss.

BONUS:

“You know, I think you’d make for a wonderful peacock instead. Show off.” You muttered

“Quiet now, you love me.”

:))))

[azrielsdove]

Longing Pt. 2: Azriel

Warnings: Suggestive

Part One Here

***

A strong body was pressed tight against your back, an arm wrapped snug around your waist. You took a deep breath of the morning air, comfortable and happy. You turned in the arm holding you to press a soft kiss to Cassian’s forehead.

Until you realized it was Azriel sleeping soundly next to you, and that it would never be Cassian. You shot up straight, feeling like you had just been doused in ice cold water. The sounds of Nestas moans replayed in your head as Azriel blinked up at you, your sudden movement waking him.

“What happened?” He asked, voice hoarse from sleep. You shook your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak right now. You slid out of the bed and walked quietly into the bathing room, preparing to take a long, sorrowful bath. You heard Azriel getting up as well, followed shortly by your bedroom door opening and closing. Yea, I wouldn’t want to stick around me either, you thought, tears pricking at your eyes.

Everything just felt too heavy.

You undressed and sunk into the warm bath you had drawn, a rather copious amount of bubbles covering you to your chin. You leaned your head back against the edge of the tub, gazing out over the early morning. Why did it have to be so hard? You had first felt the mating bond flicker when you met Cassian, and you thought all your dreams would come true. Certainly he would feel the bond as well, would feel drawn to you. You would fall in love, get married, and have ten beautiful babies. After that day there was never another option for you, not when you were so certain of your mate.

Why did it never snap for him?

Or worse, it did and he decided he wasn’t interested in pursuing that path with you.

Both options made you feel sick.

You closed your eyes and thought back to that very first meeting, the day you were so sure you had gotten what you’d always wanted.

***

“What if they don’t like me?” Your voice was full of doubt as you smoothed your dress down again, anxiety coursing through you. Azriel laughed, tugging you closer to the doors of the massive house in the mountains he had brought you to.

“I promise they will love you. Don’t you trust me?” He teased, poking your side.

You glared at him. “He is the High Lord, Azriel! My High Lord! Big, bad, powerful Rhysand! Am I not expected to be a bit nervous?” He laughed again and shook his head.

“Rhys is not scary. Do you think i’d bring you somewhere you’d be in danger?” A smile ghosted over his lips as he stared you down, daring you to ask to go back home. You sighed and ran your fingers over your dress again, sucking in a deep breath.

“Let’s just get it over with.”

“That’s my girl!” He cheered, looping his arm through yours as he pulled you into the grand house. You were quickly rendered speechless by the stunning room you were in, windows covering three entire walls to overlook Velaris.

“You live here?” You asked in amazement, still looking around the room.

“Sure do. Cassian and I reside up here most of the time. Do you like it?” There’s a strange undertone in his question, a shyness that he doesn’t usually have around you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking out across your face.

“I love it! I can’t believe you have never brought me here before!” You jabbed, smiling bigger at the relief on his face. Azriel had been your friend for some months now, and you occasionally wondered what it would be like to be more. That feeling crept up in your heart at this moment, standing with him in the home he had been so nervous to show you. You opened your mouth to continue before his eyes flicked to something behind you, the smile reserved for you changing to something more boyish.

“Cassian!” He called, and you turned to see a man just as large as Azriel. Right as you felt that golden tug in your chest. His eyes were bright as they took you in, white teeth showing as he smiled wide. Cassian.

Cassian.

Cassian.

Azriel nudged you and you suddenly realized you were staring at the male with your mouth wide open. You flushed and murmured a “hello” as your gaze drifted to the floor. You were thankful that Azriel started a conversation with him about training earlier that week, allowing you to steal glances up at the long-haired god in front of you.

Cassian.

The General of the Night Court.

Azriel’s brother.

Your Mate.

***

You opened your eyes, a deep frown on your face. You had always romanticized that memory, the magical moment of meeting your mate. The gentle tug you felt when you first laid eyes upon him.

But something was off about it.

You sat straighter in the tub, looking blankly out the window. You thought over the second you felt that bond twitch in your chest, the seconds before it.

When Azriel was smiling down at you.

No. No, you can’t have made a mistake like that. You shook your head as if to clear it, thinking back to other moments you felt the pull of the mating bond.

***

“Catch!” Azriel yelled, tossing a deadly sharp dagger at you. You yelped and dodged out of the way, watching the blade land point-down in the sand. You spun towards him, crossing your arms as you did.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You had agreed to come up to train with Azriel today, mostly due to knowing Cassian would likely be there. He had been on you about learning self-defense, adamant that the world wasn’t all safe like Velaris.

Azriel shrugged, another dagger in his hands. “Your reflexes are shit.” He stated, inspecting the blade he was holding.

“You gave me hardly any warning! It’s my first day!” You protested, knowing he wasn’t wrong. He shrugged again, eyes flicking up towards you. You noticed the tense in his arm a split second before the second dagger was hurtling directly towards your face.

This time you slid smoothly to the side, gloved hand shooting out to catch the handle of the damned thing. You turned back to Azriel, a wicked smile on your face.

“Did you truly believe I had never learned self-defense?” The slight surprise on his face was all he gave you before he was throwing another dagger your way. You again caught it with ease, throwing it back at him without missing a beat.

“Okay, color me impressed. You’ve never shown this side of you.” Azriel said, walking over to your side to take the other blades back. You handed them back, his fingers running over yours as he grabbed them. The same second Cassian walked into the ring, shouting about you starting without him.

The same second you felt the bond tug.

***

“No, no, no! That is not how you play!” Cassian yelled, looking down at the move you had just made on the game board.

“It’s not?” You asked innocently, batting your eyes up at him. He glared at you, hands waving in frustration at your game piece.

“You can’t move there! You are one turn away from winning, with a move like that. No chance left for the rest of us.” He sighed dramatically, looking in dismay at the board in front of you.

Azriel chuckled from next to you, leaning forward to look at the board as well. “Poor Cass doesn’t take well to losing,” he stage whispered, pulling a laugh out of you. You turned and looked at him, moving your face close to his as if you were two conspirators.

“He should get used to it if you keep bringing me to game night.” You loudly whispered back, Azriel laughing in answer. Cassian’s grumble dragged your gaze back to him, the bond pulling hard in your chest.

You missed the way Azriel was looking at you at the same moment.

***

The shot burned your throat, a welcome distraction against the sight of Cassian all over some random female. Azriel sat next to you, a pitying look on his face. “We don’t have to stay here, ya know.”

You shook your head, reaching for the cocktail you had ordered as well. “No, I don’t want to ruin your night. It’s not like he has to want me.” You looked down, hot tears sliding down your face. “Maybe he just doesn’t feel it.”

Azriel’s hands cupped your cheeks, dragging your face up to him. “Hey, hey, he just hasn’t realized it yet i’m sure. Don’t let this make you think you’re not enough.” His thumbs swiped away the still falling tears, now accompanied by little sniffles.

“I just don’t understand how it hasn’t snapped for him. What am I doing wrong?” You were mumbling, words hardly coherent. Azriel continued wiping away your tears, allowing your nonsense mumbles to continue.

“Hey,” he said soothingly, bringing his face down close to yours. “Don’t worry. He will come around, and if he doesn’t he was never worth it. Okay?” He gave you an encouraging smile, nodding for you to return it.

“Okay,” you said, sniffing one last time as you pulled away from Azriel and moving to place your glass back on the table.

The table that your drunken eyes severely misjudged the distance of.

Your glass shattered on the floor, the bright colored drink inside spraying all over you and Azriel. You blinked slowly at the mess, looking back up at Azriel’s equally shocked expression.

And then you laughed.

Loud, uncontrollable laughter.

Azriel stared at you for a second before joining in, grabbing napkins to help clean up the mess. The sound of your laughing drew Cassian’s attention back to your table, coming over to see what was going on. You looked up to him while Azriel carefully wiped the drink off of you, the bond glowing brightly.

***

Oh, gods. Every memory you went through of the bond calling to you, Azriel was there too.

Azriel was always there.

The broken pieces inside of you stirred, as if telling you to listen to your gut. You quickly pulled yourself out of the bath, unable to sit still any longer. How could you have made such a mistake?

You dried off and walked into your closet, blindly pulling out clothes while your mind raced.

Did Azriel even know?

You paused in horror, shirt halfway on. You had been going on and on about Cassian to him for gods knew how long. Had it been torture for him this whole time, trying to encourage you?

You quickly finished dressing, tying your hair up loosely as you headed to your bedroom door. You had to go find him, you had to see what he knew, you needed to explain-

Your door opened as you reached it, causing you to jump back in alarm.

Azriel was standing there, looking at you curiously. A large tray of food in his hands. “You okay?” He asked cautiously, taking in the panic on your face.

“Uh, yea! Sorry, I was just about to go look for you? What’s this?” Your voice was too loud, too bright. He narrowed his eyes at you as he stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“What happened.” It wasn’t a question. He set the food down on your desk, turning back to you with his arms crossed.

You shook your head too quickly, hurrying over to the tray he’d set down. “Looks delicious!” You grabbed one of the pastries on the plate, halfway to your mouth when Azriel’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What aren’t you telling me?” His voice was softer, eyes looking over you like he was making sure you weren’t injured.

“Did you know?” You asked quietly, mouth going dry. His eyes flicked up to yours, brows furrowed.

“Know what?”

You swallowed thickly, holding the pastry out towards him. He glanced between you and it, realization coming over his face. “Ah,” he said, letting go of your wrist.

“You don’t want it?” You were embarrassed by how pathetic the question was, arm falling limply to your side.

“No, no that’s not what I mean. I just, last night you were broken into pieces over Cassian. I just,” he swallowed, looking away from you. “I just want you to be sure.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice. You set the pastry back down, reaching out to grab his hands in yours. “Azriel,” you whispered, “it has always been you, hasn’t it? All those times I felt the bond pull, it was all towards you.” His eyes met yours again, shinier than they were before.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ran your thumbs over his hands, feeling the scars under your touch.

“I thought you would be disappointed. You seemed so happy that it was Cassian, the big, bad General. The hero.” Your heart was breaking, a pain deep in your chest spreading.

“Az…” You let go of one hand to cup his face, tears of your own pricking at your eyes. “I could never be disappointed with you. You held my heart long before I knew who Cassian was. It’s my own fault for misinterpreting the bond the way I did.” You let go of him, moving to pick up the pastry again. “I want you to take it,” you said, holding it out for him.

He looked at you for a long moment before taking the treat out of your hand, raising it slowly to his mouth. You watched as he took a careful bite, eyes locked onto yours while he ate. The shattered pieces of the bond stirred again, calling back out to the male you were made for.

Azriel placed the half eaten pastry down, silently looking back at you. You took a hesitant step towards him, placing one hand on his neck. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, heart racing.

He nodded.

You leaned up, pressing your lips softly to his.

The bond sung.

Azriel’s hands gripped tight around your waist, tugging you flush against him. He kissed you like it was his dying wish, his last chance to get to do so. You put the same emotion back into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He nipped at your lip, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. The bond glowed bright inside of you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. You felt his lips smile against yours, tongue sliding against you like it was meant to be there.

You groaned at his taste, the sweetness of the pastry still lingering. His hands slid up your back, gripping onto your shirt at the noises you made. You arched into him, his lips pulling from yours to trace down your neck. You moaned as he sunk his teeth into you, claiming you as his own. The golden power of the bond flowed through you, whole and pure. A beautiful golden tether, tying you to Azriel.

Azriel, your closest friend.

The Shadowsinger.

The spy of the Night Court.

Your mate.

***

I hope this was what you all wanted!! Thank you so much for your patience recently, I hope you guys appreciate this as much as I appreciate you <3

[therealslimshakespeare]

Gigi -the unbaked thots:

• Bath •

Summary: I’ve had so many requests for this universe (including a bath time which this includes) and I appreciate all of y���all’s patience. I find this universe the hardest to write for and create entire scenes and fics out of so in order to keep it from dying out I intend to loosen up a little and start throwing out headcanons for y’all to enjoy in the meantime, you can watch for them with this header above. For now enjoy a trash bit of nastiness I wrote in under an hour in the middle of the night last night -kudos to the minxs @eliseinmemphis and @stylespresleyhearted

Warnings: Explicit! 18+ Bath sexy times, grinding, fingering, praying during sex, age gap, slight degradation, voluntarily drinking bath water containing cum. Yup.

Era: September 1977

Well here they are. On the dreaded tour.

But for now -there are bubbles. So many bubbles. And the heavy rumble of the bath’s jets and the golden glow of the dimmed bathroom lights in the hotel suite and the slippery bulk of Elvis as he grumbles beneath Gigi while she writhes amidst the foam of his rinsed shampoo.

“Sloppiest lil rider I ever-“ his face is shining in a heated glow, he is awash in pink cheeked arousal and Gigi persists, wearing herself out for his little gasps and the twitches of an eyebrow here and there. Bouncing adamantly atop his thick thighs in the swirling water and trying her avid best to slip his fat length inside her. She’s been trying since day one and every time it’s

-“not yet, Gigi, not yet, s’posed to be special and you’re special baby girl, not somethin’ to rush with someone special like you, see, I uh, i-i-it’s special-“

Gigi thinks having his rock solid cock inside her would be special enough.

“ ‘member the other night,

daddy?” She asks him in a huff, winded from the exertion as she pins his throbbing length against himself and grinds her clit against the hairs on his rounded belly, full of desperation born of youthful overexubernace, “remember how -how - when you were teasing me -and you pressed against my little hole?”

Elvis lets out a long groan in reply, slapping his hands against the sides of the tub in sexual frustration, causing his rings to clank and his bracelets to jangle against the porcelain. He can feel himself swell even more, the ache in his balls nearly unbearable at the proximity to snug tightness that he’s been denying himself for a myriad of reasons that are making less and less sense now, the more Gigi’s glossy wet tits slap his face silly.

“Oooh, oh I feel you-“ she gasps, as that redundant piece of meat between his thighs gives a hearty little twitch at the memory of her tiny hole and it’s fluttering need.

“You son of a bitch,” Elvis hisses to his traitorous little friend who’s acting very stalwart in his determination to find nothing but a tight cunt sufficient stimulation for release -it was easier back when little Elvis was a limp and useless dong: “this is the one time i’m asking you not to work. C’mon, don’t fail me now I-I- hell… O-o-our father. Who art in heaven-“

Gigi buries her face into the steamy crease where his cheeks meet his throat and licks at the salt there that not even the bath can remove. His hands fly to grip her hips and he yanks her up and down, grinding harshly against her raw little center as her breasts smash against his broad chest.

He regularly complained to the boys about her voraciousness and got no sympathy, not even when they saw it for themselves with the way he could barely get his seat in the limo, have his water handed to him and a towel before she was taking off his belt, unzipping his jumpsuit and inevitably giving lil Elvis some strong mouth suction. The boys had gotten used to ignoring him dumping a load down this little girl’s throat in the blurry blaze of street lamp lit nights and cranking up the radio to hide her moans every jet flight. Nothing about it was fitting and it wasn’t even to his tastes -so Elvis insisted- but it was real nice to be so wanted, even if the voraciousness of it was all a little alarming and out of hand.

Yet, God knows Elvis wanted Gigi badly. It half scared him sometimes and the rest of the time it kept him alive.

As did Lisa in an entirely different way and between the two girls tearing up his sedate plans for self mortification and permanent hermitage, Elvis found some zest for life returning to his soul as August became September and tabloids went from calling Gigi “the new girl” to calling her his whore and the colonel went from not answering his phone to leaving a perpetual red light on the message box and it went from kisses and snuggles in his Graceland bed to frantic grinding like this after every show that had her caterwauling in his arms begging to be torn open by his cock and him grunting like a bear in heat as he spurted against her belly and smashed the button for the tub jets to stop.

Wouldn’t do to circulate superstar spunk in a Cincinnati hotel jacuzzi.

“Mmm, that feel good daddy?” her sweet voice asks as the singing angels dim and the sense of time and space and his spent cock bring him back into consciousness.

“Uhuh. Feels real good.” he admitted sheepishly and felt her plump lips pressing to his bashful grin.

He returns it, pouring his love into her with the cradling of her head in his hands and the flick of his tongue against hers and the languid massaging of lips.

Gigi swirls the milky strands of his spend in the bath water between them, giggly and invigorated. She gets this way after climaxing and Elvis can only blearily smile and indulge the way she drags him around and makes him stand and get out of the tub, how she pats him down with towels like he’s a boy child and chitters to him about backstage gossip, praises for his performance of the night and Tammy’s latest tips for making Jerry’s life a living orgasmic hell. All while pressing kisses to every single part of his body as she goes along.

She’s found goosey places on Elvis that he didn’t even know existed.

Gigi is drying his shoulders when she sees the last remnants of the tub water cycloning in a swirl towards the drain, precious pearly strings cavorting like ribbons in the eddy.

Her conversational chatter ceases abruptly with a regretful -“oh no!“

She drops the sodden towel.

He watches her kneel, crouched and bent and glorious in a soft line of naked beauty from the back. Thought his maidenly idyl is shattered as she faces away from him and in what seems to be an impulsive moment of adoration, Gigi leans over the tub, hard porcelain lip digging into her sternum as she ducks her head and dips her mouth to the tepid bathwater.

He can hear her slurping.

Her graceful bracing in position and the greedy working of her throat suggest competency at this vile practice that makes his stomach lurch and spent cock swell thickly against his thigh. Without autonomy he hears himself grunt appreciatively.

“Fuuuuck me.” he drawls in disbelief, shuffling closer to watch the whole of it, the working of her sweet mouth sucking up his diluted seman and the arch of her back showcasing pink little pussy lips glistening from the back.

It’s sick and he’s terribly in love.

“That’s my good baby girl,” he finds himself praising this heinous degradation, hand coming to rest on the dip of her lower back, “not lettin’ m’lil contrition go to waste.”

It makes her strain to get as deep in the tub as she can, legs taut and face red from the blood rushing downwards to her cheeks as she chases gravity against the flow of the drain, his hand heavy and encouraging as it palms her ass, the pinch of his rings and the grunting, savage, male appreciation for her wantonness making her squeeze her thighs together in hopeless dissatisfaction.

A sting jolts her as his hand collides in an approving slap across her plush backside. The desire to make him proud eggs her on and she crawls further over the ledge, hair dragging in the drain.

Elvis’ hand once groping her butt moves until he’s peeling her apart and sliding in the long lengths of his middle and ring finger into her tight heat, meanly stabbing inside her as she’s bent double, tonguing at the drain for the last of his essence.

“You done this before.” Elvis’ voice is low, without a shred of questioning.

“Yes.” she moans, rosy cheek pressed to the wet floor of the now empty tub. “I always do this when you leave some left over, daddy.”

Elvis watches his fingers sink into pink plushness again and again, rings acting like stoppers at each culmination, spearing her until Gigi is sobbing and spasming over the tub edge, mouth wide open screaming for him with a tongue white from his spend, as broken as he is over the need to fuck her.

Sore and puffy, he assumes he’s learned her a lesson.

Standing her back up tenderly with all gentlemanly grace, Elvis wipes at her slimy cheek with his hands, pleased to find her smile as irrepressible as ever, the only thing on this godforsaken tour that hasn’t disappointed him yet.

“When is soon?” she whines into his kisses as he presses against her, bath quite redundant with the way he has her pinned between the door and his weeping cock, freshly spluttering his devotion against her bare pubic mound like he’s twenty years younger and fit to be such a minx’s lover.

“What?” He questions, murmuring in happy confusion.

“You said you’d make love to me soon.” she insists like a child reminding their senile parent of promises for ice cream after a trip to the dentist. “When is soon?”

Elvis grins through his grunt as he slides against her puffy clit, effortless from her slick and close to coming from images of her drinking his bath- “Soon, little baby,” he pronounces with all the gravity of a wiseman and the authority of a deadly opponent who his hand engulfing her fragile jaw, “-means soon.”

🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

@vintageshanny

@landmermaid12

@ashtag2887

@notstefaniepresley

@butlersluvbot

@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

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@be-my-ally

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@richardslady121

@lilycherries123

@18lkpeters

@xenaspace3-blog

@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

@returntopresley

@gonnagoandfangirl

@kelssssxd

@octobers-snow

@velvetelvis

@blursedblegh

[anjuschiffer]

Of Forgotten Memories and A Beloved Mother

Welp here's another entry for @official-timari-server's Shutterbug Station 2024!

Enjoy!

-

Tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha

-

Context:

Damian is recovering from memory loss after a mission having gone wrong. With his memories barely in tact and only remembering his family's names, Damian was placed into 24 hour surveillance and staying home until his memories returned…hopefully. While at home, Damian was encouraged to do whatever he felt comfortable in doing, drawing and painting being one of them. Out of nowhere, Damian started to remember something from a very long time ago.

Chapter 1: Momma's Lullaby | A03

“Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,

Swim so wild and you swim so free,

Heaven above and the sea below,

And a little white whale on the go.”

Jason stopped half stride as he heard someone sing, ensuing him to figure out who it was. 

“Baby Beluga, baby Beluga,” Jason turned a hall, muttering in disbelief when the voice came from Damian’s room

“Is the water warm, is your mama home,” He couldn’t believe it…

“With you so happy?” It really was Damian singing, the boy lost in his painting as he slowly swiped his brush across the incomplete canvas in front of him.

In the few weeks that Damian was brought to them, Jason has never heard the boy sing. Hell, he never sang to begin with. So hearing him sing, nonetheless a song that seemed so familiar to the boy, Jason knew he had to get Dick.

Damian watched as the blue paint he dabbed onto the canvas started to morph into a small rubber whale, watching as his hands morphed into small chubby ones, holding onto said whale. He watched as he threw the whale just a few inches away from himself, laughing up a storm when he watched the whale barely sink upon hitting the water

His own squeals were soon accompanied by some distant giggling, Damian feeling his entire body lighten up upon hearing the familiar laugh, feeling the need to smile as he turned to look at the person next to him, her face resting on the edge of the bathtub. Large bluebell eyes smiled at him.

“Was that fun, Dami? Was it fun?” She asked him, Damian finding himself just squealing as she pinched his cheek. “Oh you’re just so cute! Let’s get you washed up, okay?” She tucked a strand of midnight hair behind her ear before she went to scrub his hair. 

“Way down yonder where the dolphins play,

Where you dive and splash all day,” She slowly rinsed the soap off, Damian watching the suds surround him.

“The waves roll in and the waves roll out,

See the water squirting out of your spout.” She brought his bath toys closer to him when Damian started to cry as he watched his beluga toy float away.

“Baby Beluga, oh baby Beluga,

Sing your little song, sing for all your friends,

We like to hear you.” She sang as she took him out of the tub and wrapped a towel around him, kissing his nose as she took him to his room.

The room was dim, only a lamp lit the room, speckling the room with tiny stars of light. She laid him on the bed and quickly put him into a soft pair of pajamas so that he would remain warm.

“When its dark and your home and fed,

Curled up snug in your water bed,” She sang as she tucked him under some blankets and laid right beside him.

“Moon is shining and the stars are out,

Good night little whale good night.” She sang, Damian feeling his eyes turn heavy, his consciousness fighting the drowsiness that enveloped his body.

“Baby Beluga, oh baby Beluga,

With tomorrow's sun, another day's begun,

You'll soon be waking.” He found himself closing his eyes.

Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,

Swim so wild and you swim so free,

Heaven above and the sea below,

And a little white whale on the go.

You're just a little white whale on the go.” Damian whispered as he opened his eyes, lifting his paintbrush away from the canvas, finally leaning back to look at the woman staring back at him. Or at least, he knew the face of a woman was looking at him, but try as he may, for the life of him, he just couldn’t-

“What do you have there, Dami?” Dick asked, Damian controlling his flinching from the sudden call. “Who’s that? Someone you know?”

Damian felt something stir in chest, because the longer he tried to stare at her face, he couldn’t see her face. He could only see, he could only recognize the bright shade of bluebell that he adored to see everyday. He loved her attention. Her hugs. He loved her voice and yet… “Damian. Is everything-”

“I don’t know.” Damian answered in the quietest voice Dick had ever heard him speak since he had known the kid. “I don’t know who she is.”

“Well for someone you don’t know…she’s very pretty.”

“She was.” Damian found himself saying, feeling his mind muddle. “She was very pretty…and her voice was pretty. She’d always sing me the same lullaby while tucking me in for bed.” Damian admitted.

“She tucked you into bed? When you were younger?” 

“I think…I’m not completely sure.” Damian looked at her face one last time, but like always, he could only see her eyes. 

Eyes that he wished he could see again.

What he would give to be able to see her again. “But I know one thing. 

I used to call her Momma.”

“Momma! Momma don’t go!” Damian yelled as Talia pulled him back, Damian watching as Momma was guided out the League’s compound, her luggage carried by two guards. “Momma!”

Damian watched as she stopped and said something to the guards. She turned around and simply smiled. “Momma?”

“Take care Dami. Grow up and find me, okay?” She smiled one last time before she turned around, Damian watched her disappear into the exit that led to the outside world he was forbidden to go into.

“MOMMA!”

NEXT

[sio-writes]

Sacrifice Chapter 10

<Chapter 9

<<Chapter 1

Tags: NSFW - PIV sex

Given Aurelius' size, I'd assumed Dachaigh would've provided a bigger tub, but she's not only made it smaller, it's now free-standing and in the middle of the room. Gone is the wooden tub where I could think or plan or cry, replaced by a large stone basin made of white stone.

"Ugly," I murmur under my breath as I frown. I'm temporarily caught out by my own callousness, my ungrateful impression of what possibly took a great deal of energy and magic to make.

Behind me, Aurelius chuckles to himself. "Dachaigh, why did you shrink the bath?"

One of the shutters on the window shuts suddenly, making me jump but making Aurelius laugh. "Aha! I knew it. She says it's meant to be snug."

I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. "Snug?"

"Comfortably arranged," he starts, resting his large hands on my shoulders. He bends down and warm air ghosts over my cheek as he says, "Closer together."

I shrug him off, feeling indignant. "I know what 'snug' means. I'm not that uneducated."

"You're not uneducated at all, dearest, you simply know things differently."

Know things differently, huh. I hadn't thought of my knowledge as useful, I'd just been keeping a habit that I'd had since childhood. Aurelius even sounded impressed. Does he think I'm smart?

Dachaigh also added a large window of colored glass on the far wall in a pattern of shapes, the light from outside making it dance over the smooth white tub. As I walk closer I make out the image of a flower, a rose I think. The change in tub makes sense, now.

"I believe she's sending us hints," Aurelius says.

A pang of guilt makes my skin go cold, but I press it down as I begin to unlace the side of my dress. I must push past this guilt, but I'm not sure how he wants me to react. I take too long to respond and it causes him to sigh heavily, and the guilt weighing on my shoulders tropes in weight.

Aurelius gets in the tub as I undress. He's only adorned by the shadows that usually surround him to make whatever form of clothing he feels like wearing that day. He rolls his shoulders to dismiss the shadows, and they creep across the floor to join the patch of shade in the far corner of the room, a sight I've never seen, but thinking on it, makes perfect sense.

Aurelius looks strange without the cloak of shadows on his frame. His body is tall and strong and his limbs are long, not unnaturally so, but enough to make one turn their head should they catch a glimpse. I see a fluffy wolf-like tail that swishes when he tests the water. That's new.

He's still made of the shadows, but in the light coming through the colored glass, he absorbs it all, a void of nothing in the center of the room. His stance and the slant of his shoulders speak of the strength I've seen before. The vision sends a shiver up my spine, first the cold shock of fear, then the warm caress of arousal behind it.

The tub is clearly too small for him. When he sits, he's barely covered up to his chest.

In a handful of minutes all my clothes are on the floor, and then I'm very ungracefully stepping into the heated water. Any minor embarrassment aside, it's lovely to recline into Aurelius' warmth, to smile at his legs breaching the waterline.

The water smells of chamomile, and the feel of it is slick like oil's been added. It's the perfect temperature, a word I learned the other day, and I groan outright as I'm submerged up to my neck. It's relaxing. The quiet feels like a blanket, a safe haven from the world outside.

He waits until I'm comfortably submerged, then laces his fingers over my belly and rests his head on top of mine. My belly is full of knots, and I search for a reason to make noise.

"Does Dachaigh, um…Watch us all the time?"

Aurelius thinks before answering, "She is aware of what goes on, but doesn't have eyes to see."

"She hears us?"

"In a way. Is that not to your liking?"

"It's…It's like being watched by my grandmother, and I certainly don't want her watching us fuck."

He hums, thoughtful. "It's more akin to your grandmother standing in another room-- yes, I'll stop," he ends with a laugh at the glare I throw over my shoulder. "Are our plans for intimacy dropped, then?"

I pull my wet hair over one shoulder and run my hands over it. Out with it, already. "You…still want to? Even after I used it against you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

I do my best to explain it to him, from my planning to the seduction and eventually chickening out when we started to argue. He doesn't interrupt or correct anything, only drags his thumbs over my skin in encouragement anytime I pause or lose my words. When I'm done, he shifts in the water to pull me closer, then he sighs heavily.

"You speak as if I've never manipulated you through sex either."

I turn to him with a quizzical look, and he reaches up with one hand to rub the back of his neck. "That time after the market, when I forced you, it was for my benefit only."

Oh, I hadn't thought that he felt guilty for that. I hadn't thought he could feel guilt at all, and truth be told I'd enjoyed it, hadn't thought once that he'd forced me into anything. Then again, he listened to me when I tried to run, and he's listening to me now. Shortly after that incident he'd hid away and avoided me-- was it because he felt guilty? Was he doing the same thing that I've been doing this whole time?

I snort, the stupidity of our situation suddenly turning funny in my mind. I can't help the laughter that slips through my lips, turning into a full-on fit in a matter of moments.

"I don't think this is very funny," Aurelius says, his tone offended, but I can't stop as more and more pieces of his strange behavior suddenly make sense. The hiding away, the long trips, the random things he'd find for me. My hand goes to the locket at my throat, to the beautiful ruby in the center. Had he stolen this from a human woman for me? I'm warming up to the idea that he did. "You thought you raped me so you gave me a necklace?"

He huffs indignantly. "It's more than mere decoration, the chain is made of iron to protect you."

"Aurelius…" And I turn my body fully, and see that there's an imprint of marks on his shadowy skin where I was laying against him. I'd been hurting him without realizing it-- something I've probably been doing for a while, what we've been doing to each other.

But he gave me the means to protect myself, even if it was from himself. It's touching, in that odd, familiar, Aurelius-like way.

I sigh as I unclasp the necklace and toss it so it lands on top of my clothes and not on Dachaigh. In the time it takes me to do so, I notice the marks on Aurelius beginning to fade. At least I can free my mind of hurting him, now.

I turn within his arms and splash water all over the floor, yet the tub remains full and heated. The smooth stone digs into my knees as I brace them on the inside of Aurelius' legs.

Smoothing my hand over his head, tracing a line of silver, I smile down at him. "We're not very good at this, are we?"

He chuckles as his hands rest lightly on my hips. "No, we're not." He pulls me in closer, nuzzling my side with his snout. "You know I want to be better. Can I ask you to be better, too?"

My smile widens. "I think I can do that. But we need to be spending more time together."

"Like today?"

"Like today," I say, bending forward to kiss the top of his head. "I'd like more of today."

"I know something we're good at," he continues, one hand moving to cup my ass. His meaning is clear and a shock of affection moves through me. He still wants me.

He reaches down between us to cup my cunt in one large hand. A single finger runs between my folds, and I bite my lower lip at the sensuality behind it.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly. I swear he sounds unsure.

"Yes," I say immediately, and he adds another finger to slowly drag up the center of me to my clit. I brace a hand on his shoulder as his other hand gently massages the swell of my ass. I let out a small noise of pleasure as he explores with his fingers, gently at first then firmer the more I respond to it. There's no hurry to it, no pattern, like he's feeling just to wring responses from me.

Arousal drips down through my pelvis, spreading over my body. I'm done keeping things to myself, it's only ever gotten me in trouble, so I moan aloud as I see fit. I grip Aurelius' shoulders with both hands, moving my hips in opposition to his hands to get the most of the pleasure he's offering. I watch his member grow to full hardness and bob in the water between us.

I open easily to his fingers, two to start, thrusting with lazy confidence inside me. My breath catches on a sensitive spot, and he chuckles.

"I've missed you, dearest," he says, voice low.

I've missed this too. A few weeks without and I turned into a snapping mess. I press a kiss to his snout and bring my hand up to the opposite side. "I'm here now, I'm here."

He groans in my ear and his hips thrust up uselessly. It's quick work to prep myself before I sink down onto his waiting cock. It's still just barely too big, and I feel the stretch before I'm fully seated and welcome it like an old friend. The connection is back, I feel it behind my chest. It's a comforting feeling.

Aurelius allows me a few moments to adjust to his size, cupping hot water and spilling it over my shoulders so I don't catch a chill. It's sweet, the attention he gives me.

I start slowly, so we won't splash too much water over the floor. The texture over the top of his shaft moves deliciously against my insides the same way his fingers did. I'm happy to keep this pace until I come, but Aurelius has other ideas. He grabs me roughly by the hips and forces me up and down on his cock, each downstroke pushing the air from my lungs. Water splashes over the sides of the tub and lands on the floor, yet the level stays the same within.

I love feeling used, like the only reason he keeps me around is a warm ching to bury himself into. Images pop up in my mind like bubbles, fantasies of being fucked so throughly I can't walk for a week.

Aurelius grips me tighter. The small bruising points of pain add to the heat in my hips, and in nearly no time at all my pleasure is brought to a peak and I'm coming. My nails dig into his shoulders as every muscle clenches up in ecstacy and I release a moan. He's quick to follow, moving my body over his until he seizes up and he's wrapping his arms over my back.

The water sloshes around us, spilling onto the floor, slowly settling into stillness the longer we take to catch our breaths. We remain there, suspended as we collect ourselves. He slips out of me, allowing me to lean forward and tuck my head into the crook of his neck.

He smooths a hand over my head. "Thank you," he murmurs.

"Of course," I reply sleepily.

I find stability, both in my body and in my mind. I belong here, with Aurelius holding me.

"I have a lesson for you today," he says, brushing a lock of my hair over my ear.

My mind goes to the first place it can think of, and I snort. "A sex lesson?"

He hums, sounding thoughtful. "No, but I'll think on that for a later outing. No, I have a magic lesson in mind. You're going to learn how to grow."

**

Aurelius leads me through a maze of doors and rooms until Dachaigh eventually spits us out into a greenhouse-- another word I picked up, a place just for growing plants. It's a large circular room, the walls and ceiling are all glass to let as much sunlight and warmth in as possible. I feel like I'm standing inside a hollow diamond that's filled to bursting with plants. I'm glad to see we're right-side up in this room, I'm not sure what I'd do if we were tilted sideways again.

I see many of the plants we'd once spotted on our walk through the forest to get here. The memory of being led away so easily by those fae, almost to my death, has me stepping closer to Aurelius without meaning to. He did come and rescue me, back then. I saw that horrifying form when I tried to leave, but not a glimpse of it since. He was angry, that much is clear, but I've seen him angry before too, and he didn't change forms then. I have every reason to fear him, he could crush me like a bug, but I don't. I don't think I ever have, truly.

"Don't worry," he says, breaking my thoughts. "This is an easy lesson, something I know you can already do."

My nose wrinkles. "How do you know?"

The fucker looks down at me, and I swear he's smug. There's no way to know his exact expressions, but I'm starting to pick up on his aura-- how he feels, at least. I can read the shifting stars in his eyes like I would read my mother's scrawl: carefully and with much patience.

He shifts to that human-sized form with the rabbit skull and takes my hand, leading me to a table lining the wall, and leaving the pile of goop that was his previous form on the floor.

He's set out several clay pots the size of a bucket, one next to the other, all filled to the brim with dark dirt.

"You're going to grow these," he says, sweeping his free arm over them.

He writes a rune in the dirty of the pot, and waves his hands over it. Not a moment later, a sprout bursts from the ground, growing quickly into a small tomato plant with two small green starter bulbs. I notice that one of the main branches of Aurelius' antlers has fallen away.

I look at the two empty pots. "What am I to give up this time? My eyebrows?"

"No," he says, amused. "Magic isn't so direct. The trade is something of value to the caster, not the other way around."

I frown. I have the dress that Aurelius met me in, but that's the only item I have remaining of my life in the human realm. It's folded and resting in a corner of the library. I suppose I could offer the dress on me now, although that would leave me without clothing for the day, as my other dresses are drying from the wash. I can't imagine Aurelius complaining about that particular detail, but I don't want to be wandering around naked for the better part of the day.

It's fiddling with the button on my sleeve that strikes me with the idea, and I hold up my arm to show him the shiny thing. "I sewed this on myself, took a total of five minutes. I'm very proud of myself for doing so. Is that enough?"

Aurelius considers it for a moment before leaning forward to inspect the button. It's made of brass and stamped with a seal of mysterious meaning, something he'd brought me in one of the many baskets he left by my bedside. "It should be sufficient. Here."

With the snip of one of his claws the button snaps off and I place it on the table. From his vest he produces a small square of paper folded several times and hands it to me. Inside he's drawn a list of runes, some I've seen before, others not.

He's says, "That's every known symbol for using magic that you'll need to memorize."

There must be at least a baker's dozen of them that he's written down, all with short descriptions on the type of magic it produces. Some look identical, others so complex I can barely make out a symbol at all, they look like smudges of ink.

I look up from the page, a grimace slowly stretching my lips, and Aurelius laughs.

"You don't need them memorized now, but some spells are based on timing and the whole ritual can be undone if you wait too long, so it's best to have them all prepared."

"Ah," I say, only half understanding what he means. I'm sure he'll explain the rest in time, he's good at offering information when it's not about himself.

He continues, "To cast, write the rune, and set an intent: what you want from the magic. This spell only requires one, but more complex spells will need multiple runes, and if even one is incorrect, nothing will take."

My mind wanders back to our first meeting. "Will I learn to write them in the air like you did?"

"Perhaps, but that requires a high level of control. For now, focus on this rune here-- draw it in the soil of each pot. Good. The rune will channel the magic that's already in the world through you, and you're helping guide it to the seed."

I turn back to the pot of dirt and frown at it. Concentrate. Imagine.

It's hot in this greenhouse, and sweat rolls down my temple as I stare at the dirt with no changes.

Aurelius repeats, "Imagine it growing. Put your energy into the seed."

I imagine the seed, in the ground, with magic flowing around it like water. The seed breaks open, sending roots below and a stem above, growing, growing, through the dirt. I feel a sensation like water over my skin, cool and fresh, starting at my feet and running through my veins and into the seed.

My eyes pop open. In the center of the first pot sits a tiny green stem with two equally tiny leaves. I jump at least half my height in the air and shriek, "Yes! Yes, I did it!"

It looks good, it looks healthy, and I did it all myself!

"Excellent," Aurelius says, squeezing my shoulder. "Now the other two."

It's not his words that take the wind from my sails, but I feel a wave of tiredness sink into my bones. I sway a bit, and have to grab the table for balance.

Aurelius rests a gentle hand on my lower back that I gratefully lean against. "Casting magic also takes energy."

I snort. "You don't say." I sweep my eyes over the table. The button from my sleeve has rusted over and is starting to crack. I reach out to touch it, and it crumbles like sand under my fingers. "Woah."

Aurelius presses his hand into my back in encouragement. "That's part of the exchange. Once more."

He swipes another button from the same sleeve, and sets it on the table. This time is harder, more sweat collects on my face and I feel it rolling down my back as I try to repeat the same image in my mind.

It's as if thousands of seconds pass in a moment, and the small plant pushes through the dirt just like the first.

"Yes!" I exclaim, throwing my arms in the air. But I'm hit by another wave of exhaustion that has me heaving breath like I just ran a race.

Aurelius examines the two plants, humming his approval at each of them. A burst of pride goes through me at each, and again when he says, "Very good, you're a quick study."

"What else can I do?"

"Today? Nothing, you're done for now."

I stick my lower lip out in a pout, and Aurelius laughs.

>> Chapter 11

[msfcatlover]

Death Mask Steph

Oh boy. This is the big one. I've agonized over this, and getting the design right has been... ugh. Nevermind. Here we go.

Death Mask needs to draw on Red Hood and Steph designs. (I would draw from Black Mask designs, but frankly Roman's designs are all kinda boring? He's a skull-head in a suit, and basically always has been; it's simple & effective, but there's not a lot to iterate on there.) Steph's suits tend to be armored one-pieces, but layering is so crucial to most Red Hood designs, that balancing the two has been... tricky.

(I've already shared the Stephanie Brown Costume History page. Unfortunately, the n52 designs page seems to be just descriptions with no pictures, and the page for her n52 appearances doesn't give you many good angles. So here's Steph's "Future's End" & "Future State" designs, as the stand-out missing designs, in my opinion.)

The absolute vital part of any Red Hood inspired design is, of course, the helmet. It's also been the biggest pain. Jason's had some good helmet designs and a lot of bad ones over the years, and (as I've previously stated) finding a full reference page for them is basically impossible. So here's what I'm going with.

Steph starts with a sleek, sculpted black metal base. Say something like this model of Jason's Injustice helmet. The primary difference would be that Steph's helmet opens up at the front rather than the back; the faceplate would be hinged at the top of the head, and it would swing up & forwards to reveal her face.

(Using the Injustice helmet as a base because it more than most looks like it really should open from the front. I'd also say the sides would also be able to open wider, so that it can still fit snug without being a pain to get in & out of. Not that anyone would ever bother to draw that detail, but I think it would look neat opening up in 3 directions all at once.)

Next, most of the face plate is covered by a sculpted skull. This is how she invokes the whole "Death Mask" idea, as well as purposefully stealing Roman's gimmick. Below the teeth are a couple understated tubs & valves, evoking a gasmask---something like this.

(Kinda a Red X look, I'm realizing now that I'm digging through my reference folders all at once... Anyway, this piece seems to be by Laura Sheridan, but her website seems to be down, you can only buy her art seemingly 2nd hand, and I can't find this picture listed anywhere but pinterest.)

The edges, mechanical bits, and any detail work added should be done in copper.

Within the eye sockets are two recessed glowing lenses, like Jason often has, though Steph's glow a dark magenta, casting light that borders on red.

(Obviously, these lenses change size & shape to show emotion through the mask, like you do. They're not designed to---in fact, logically all the bat-masks are designed like this in order to help hide the wearer's emotions---but that's comic logic for you.)

Below the helmet, Steph's suit is mainly made up of reinforced black leather motorcycle pants, a black undersuit, and an armored vest like this.

(But black. Obviously.)

However, she accessorizes. Steph has added a decorative metal ribcage to her armor, as well was plates mimicking a spine. The ribs should be copper-colored, while the spine can be either metallic or black.

(Depending on who's drawing them, the ribs could range from purely decorative to practically another layer of armor. And following the links from pinterest, both of those artists have apparently taken their rib-art down, which is once again very disappointing.)

Steph wears a chunky utility belt which sits crooked on her hips. I personally think it should be black (maybe brown?) with either copper, ivory, or dark magenta snaps/clasps holding the pouches shut (pick one for all pouches, not a mixture). She has a gun holstered on each hip, one on each thigh, a set of throwing knives (3-5) on the front of the belt, and wears her sickle-swords strapped criss-cross on her back.

The swords themselves are made from a copper-alloy, retaining their coppery color, and easily double her reach (are about as long as one arm.) They have a hilt not dissimilar to an Egyptian khopesh, but a completely different blade; Steph's swords have a much more exaggerated curve, and crucially, they're sharpened on the inside of the crescent, where a khopesh is sharpened on the outside. They legitimately look like a crescent moon sickle, stretched out to sword size.

(Khopesh hilt, and genuinely the best crescent sickle sword I can find for what I'm picturing. Steph's would be in much better shape, obviously.)

Steph keeps it understated-but-still-stated with knee-high, buckle-up, black leather motorcycle boots.

(These are mid-calf, but it's the closest I can find that aren't completely over the top. Also, any artist who figured out how to make the laces work without losing the straps would win my unending love for the symbolism of Steph clearly still mimicking her big brother but trying so hard to hide it.)

Steph’s sleeves are armored in black metal plates, ending in sharpened black gauntlets. I don't care much about the specific structure, I just really want that clawed look.

(Shorter would be more practical for finesse work, while longer claws could be worked into her fighting style. I am going back & forth on whether this should be both arms or just one of them, because I’m a sucker for asymmetric designs, but I think it might be a bit too much with all the other details.)

Finally, over top of it all, Steph wears an uneven ivory-colored hooded shawl made of layers of thin, wispy fabric. It hangs down her back to her waist, but bunches up in the front over her collarbones. It's purposefully designed to look tangled & messy, hiding her body shape with all its bulk & fly-aways, and is flimsy enough that grabbing hold of basically any part of it will just leave you with a fist full of torn fabric.

This is the hardest to find examples for, but... okay, so it's shaped roughly like this:

(If anyone can find the non-pinterest source for this one, I'd hugely appreciate it; all I'm getting is a dead twitter link.)

It's layered like these:

And it's made from material like this:

(This definitely gets swapped out for either a white scarf or a brown trench coat pretty regularly, just because those are easier to wrap your head around/draw. I think both could work & be cool, but Steph is trying to give off “undead vibes” with this original costume, and this gives her a more ghostly look which… okay, is heavily inspired by this Jason design.)

Also, Steph's hair is still long, but she ties it up in either a french or dutch braid before going out most of the time. Dutch is for going out in public or to the gym, where she'll lift it off her neck in a ponytail, french then gets coiled into a bun inside of her helmet.

(I am undecided on whether or not she also has an undercut.)

[stormyoceans]

Sleepover ask -

PuenTalay headcanon, at Properly Old. Not forties, not fifties. But like... 70+.

😘 go!

DIDN'T EXACTLY PLAN TO CRY MY HEART OUT ON THIS FINE FRIDAY NIGHT BUT NO YEAH I CAN DO THAT SURE WHY NOT IT'S GOOD IT'S FINE IM FINE IM DEFINITELY NOT ALREADY TEARING UP OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT

basically this is the thing im sensitive about. so i took some of the headcanons i already had about this and tried to write them a little bit better, but i feel like they might be..both too specific and yet not specific enough at the same time ;;;;;;; still, i hope they can be at least an interesting read!!!!

SO HERE GOES NOTHING

it feels kinda silly to start with this but. they have matching pill organizers: blue for talay, pink for puen;

talay has diabetes and high blood pressure (too many sweets), puen has arthritis;

talay also has to go back wearing glasses because of presbyopia, while puen somehow still manages to have better eyesight than him;

don't ask me why, but i always loved the idea of puen eventually starting a garden in their yard (i blame the pink trumpet tree and the lotuses) and now not even his aching bones can keep him away from his veggies and his flowers;

when they were younger, puen was always the one getting up late and trying to keep talay in bed, but as they grew older their habits somehow switched: puen would usually wake up at dawn, and after staring at talay snugged closely against him and marveling at how their bodies still fit together perfectly after all those years (soft paunches and weary muscles and fine bones and all), he would throw on a dressing gown and slip into a pair of rubber boots to go putter around the garden;

talay would wake up some time later and slowly make breakfast before calling puen back inside to eat together;

when puen's arthritis gets bad, talay gently holds puen's hands in his own and rubs the thin, speckled, slightly gnarled skin with ointment, before pressing a kiss on top of them;

puen still loves to take baths, loves to sink in the hot water with all his creaking joints and let himself relax for a while. talay can't join him in the tub anymore, which is a pity, but he's always there to help puen out, to wrap a towel around him and pat him dry;

despite his worries, puen still has a full head of hair, but it's all gray now. talay has less gray hair but more lines on his face, especially around the eyes (puen loves them);

technically they're both retired, but puen still writes from time to time, especially children's books, and talay has learned he actually enjoys painting quite a lot (and even sold a couple of his works);

im fully convinced they would adopt a kid some time after the our skyy's events, but by now the kid would have grown up and started their own family, and while of course they're very close and puentalay are wonderful grandparents (or even great grandparents!!!!!!), not long after their kid went to college, puen started to brought in stray cats and never really stopped after that (talay did try to stop it the very first time, but it's hard to say no to puen, especially when he's holding a tiny kitten he just saved from the streets) [also no matter how many cats they had throughout the years, they all somehow fell in love with talay. talay always jokes that it's because puen is a cat himself];

one morning, talay gets out on the porch to call puen for breakfast and suddenly he can't speak. there’s a painful buzzing in his head and a strange sagging feeling on his face, and when he tries to call puen's name his mouth doesn't cooperate. somewhere in the distance, their new stray, a tabby who loves to follow puen around in the garden, is meowing almost desperately. the last thing talay remembers is puen's pale face and puen's arms wrapped around him;

talay's had a very mild stroke, but thankfully there was no damage. with some rehabilitation and some adjustments of his meds, he is back walking and talking and cooking and painting like before. puen gets stricter with their diet tho, and he insists they go for a walk every day. in the past, he had sometimes joked around pretending to feel sick or to forget about stuff just to tease talay. now, he doesn't find it funny anymore. they aren't able to talk about their fears, but they don't need to speak out loud to understand each other. some nights they just spend hours kissing, slow and purposeful and certain, focusing on what makes them alive: the cadence of their breaths, the tremble of their bellies, the clutch of their fingers;

they don't really talk much about the alternate universe anymore, not because they don't remember it or no longer think about the people they met there, but because they've built a life and a family in their own, and they like to believe that so did everyone on the other side too. sometimes tho, when it's late and they're lying in bed together, fingers entwined and foreheads touching, talay would asks "in our next life, do you think we’ll find each other again?”, and every single time puen would whisper fiercely, holding talay so tightly it almost hurt, "i found you across universes, i'll find you across lives too";

there was a time when they both thought they would spend the rest of their lives alone. then, they found each others

[mamirhodessxox]

His Strange Addiction (Pt 7)

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5, Pt 6

Cody Rhodes x Fem Wrestler!Oc (Milena Reyz)

Desc: It’s finally early October and Milena & Cody have been alerted by multiple people that Milena may be experiencing pregnancy due to an everyday sickness especially right before one of his matches, Cody notices strange behaviors within their dog Pharaoh & notices emotional outbursts from Millsc

Contents: Angst, Fluff, Arguing, Milena serving cunt, Cody being a whore for Milena, Mentions of insecurity, slightly toxic duo, Mentions of pregnancy, Smut, Edging,

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Milena was pretty sure her & cody were sex addicted but also couldn’t be to blame since this is usually normal for newly weds especially if they are to busy for a certain amount of time that whenever Cody & Mills are given time they take that to their advantage, hence right now.

Cody was currently busy pleasing his wife in any way he possibly could, and that included breaking the bed frame while doing such, how did he succeed at doing that you ask? You’ll see exactly why.

Milena was bent over with her face snug into the pillows while cody held her hip in one hand and the bed frame in the other while practically drilling his cock into her at an unreasonable pace, the poor girl was crying into the pillow or throwing her head back against his chest “f-fuck cody!” He grinned & slapped her ass groaning into her ear before nearly pulling out & slamming right back into her pussy. The bedroom was filled with noises like the bed slamming against the wall, Cody’s heavy breathing & groans and Milena crying into a pillow.

“Feels good doesn’t it Doll?” He hummed against the shell if her ear before leaning back & wrapping his hand around her hair & giving it a tug before continuing to slam into her “Answer me.” He warned which made her roll her eyes back crying “f-feels so fucking good Cody!!” She whined drooling all over herself while cody let go of her hair and travelled his hand in between her thighs just to start teasing her clit, she couldn’t muster up any words to tell him she was close so his ego was extremely boosted when he realized she came & started sobbing into the pillows from such overwhelming pleasure while he leaned down holding her against his chest while his thrusts got sloppy “gonna take my cum like a good girl? Yeah?” He smirked while she nodded her head and tried moving her hair out of her face before he thrusted one last time completely blowing his load inside of her. The two laid there breathing heavily & rolled off of each other before he wrapped her around his arms & kissing the top of her head.

“You did so good for my sweetheart.” He hummed in her ear while She smiled and he sat up and pushed the blankets on her & headed to the bathroom to run a warm bath pouring bubbles inside before walking back to the bedroom to carry her like a princess “What are you planning hm?” She poked his chest grinning while he walked into the bathroom and set her inside the tub & got in with her “Just relax sweetheart.” He muttered and put her hair into a bun before leaning her back into his chest.

Just a few weeks after that night Milena & Cody were in new York for yet another WWE event & everyone took notice that something was off with Milena more than usual, every few minutes when the guys would try recording a Big Elites skit they would notice she would run off to the bathroom and throw up, Jey & Roman looked at each other at back at cody while Rhea & Becky would assist Mills “Cody how active are you two?” He choked on his water as Seth randomly asked him “I’m not telling you how much we screw Seth.” He shook his head but Roman got involved “No he’s serious, because if you two are constantly going at it which is..to be expected from you guys, but if you ain’t using a rubber she’s pregnant.” Cody furrowed his eyes at Roman and laughed shaking his head “She’s not pregnant calm down.” Jey raised an eyebrow “She puked like 3 times this week & today, Now I don’t know much about this shit but…That’s a sign of pregnancy uce.”

The guys nodded their heads while Cody just sat there rolling his eyes until Liv walked in after helping Rhea & Becky with Milena “Cody when was she last on her period? And is it usually on time?” And he went on his phone checking his calendar “Her last period was on September 1st to the 7th. Her period’s usually start on the first of each month.” And then it sunk in, it was the 19th of October and she hadn’t started at all or even felt the pre period cramps. “Fuck.” He muttered. Milena walked back in with Rhea while Liv pulled away Becky and immediately went to the higher ups to pause any future matches for Milena, since then Cody would notice little things that fit in the criteria of her being pregnant such as intense ranges of emotional outbursts.

A backstage segment would be filmed and cody would barely be in frame eating chips but Milena would storm by suddenly pissed off and Cody would look directly at the camera that would zoom in on him before he sighed walking off to go calm her down.

One time at their house she was getting ice into a cup and a singular ice cube fell down on the ground and she would start SOBBING. Cody would run down stairs and calm her down from such an intense breakdown over ice & then he would sit her down on the couch and have a discussion with her “sweetheart your 2 weeks late from your period, I think we might need to check if your pregnant.” Which caused Milena to wipe off her face nodding, that night Cody would have come home from the store with 5 different pregnancy tests and invited Jey, Becky, Roman & Rhea over just incase she needed support.

They would all sit on the couch together in silence, cody holding his face in his hands tapping his foot against the floor nervously while Milena was upstairs waiting for all of the results, Rhea would pace around the living room & Roman would wait against the kitchen counter while Becky was up there with Milena. All of them turned their heads towards Beck & Milena as she carried down the five pregnancy tests and set them in front of in which all of the results were positive, Milena was worried Cody wouldn’t be to happy with the results since he just silently stood up but her worries were smacked away the minute he wrapped her around his arms before he pulled away smiling “Well that was eas-“ she slapped his shoulder laughing while Jey gave him a congratulatory hug, for the rest of they night all hung out before leaving Cody & Milena alone together.

Cody cleaned up the kitchen for a bit while Mills came back downstairs in one of his T-shirts and wrapped her arms around him “Your still up baby?” She smiled nodding “Couldn’t sleep, I always have troubles going to sleep when you’re not with me in bed.” She sighed while tracing circles into his arm while he kissed her head “You excited?” She questioned while he lifted his head a bit nodding “Of course I am baby, especially if you’re the woman carrying my baby.” He smiled kissing her on the lips ever so softly. “C’mon let’s get you back to bed princess.” He breathed out & took her back to bed. They would lay down together & Milena would fall asleep but Cody would just stare at his hand on-top of her belly until he passed out.

The two had a set morning routine everyday, & I mean every, day. They both would wake up at the exact time, shower together, brush their teeth together, pick out each other’s clothes, they were literally Barbie & Ken, Cody would literally make breakfast every morning & go over the top just for her approval, but because of Milena being pregnant this would have to change slightly, Cody started waking up earlier & let her sleep in while he focused on making her breakfast in bed & talk about what they’re gonna be doing today when she would wake up, but thankfully nothing to big was happening today, it was rainy outside so He would clean up the kitchen and get back in bed with Mills & read a book, Milena would set her book down and huff “Baby ‘m bored.” He looked over at her and smiled “what do you wanna do them gorgeous?” He hummed and set his book down and just as she shrugged he got up and brought out a shoe box from under the bed which was their little “activity” box which made her smile “pick what you wanna do baby.” He sat it in-front of her while she hummed looking inside & picked out the vibrator from the box which Cody started forming a smug smile before making his way back into the bed & kissed her. He sat behind her and grabbed the vibrator but also refusing to remove his lips against her so he yanked her panties off without her noticing & then let out a chuckle when she gasped against his mouth the moment she felt vibrations against her clit.

“Cody- fuckk” she moaned against his shoulder once two of his fingers started thrusting inside of her, he hummed as a response before curling his fingers and using his free hand to press the vibrator further into her clit “f-fuckk gonna cum!” She cried and kicked her legs around but just as she was about to cum he stopped the vibrator and stopped his movement which made her cry out in frustration before he continued “Aweh princess what’s the matter hm? Don’t like it when daddy teases your pretty pussy huh?” She shook her head barely noticing he was faking his sympathy & continued doing the exact thing with his fingers and vibrator that had her close to cumming but once again he stopped all movement & vibrations which made her let out a choked sob before letting out little pleads against his shoulder while he smirked & continued what he was doing “since you asked so nicely baby I’ll let you cum.” He muttered against her hair before speeding up his pace and grinning as she moaned louder and squeezed her thighs around his wrists “mmnn Cody!! ‘M gonna cum!!” She squealed and arched her back and cried once she started cumming “Good fucking girl baby, what a good girl you are.” He breathed out and kissed her before shutting off the vibrator & tossing it aside before pulling out his fingers and licking her cum off of them while he got up to clean her up & go make her something to eat.

It was officially october 31st, Cody & Milena went to the WWE arena dressed up, Cody couldn’t find time to dress-up for Milena certainly did, she was wearing this cute little genie outfit in pink, She was looking forward to this night because that’s when she was going to go 1v1 with Tiffany as her last match since she was still extremely early into the pregnancy and you know who didn’t know of this once again? COOOODDDDYYYYY <3 the only time he found out if when she went out in the ring & Cody looked up at one of this tv screens “Jesus fucking christ no she didn’t.” He muttered while Roman stared at the tv confused “wait a minute she’s pregnant still she can’t be out there.” He questioned since nobody but them knew she was pregnant while Milena grabbed a microphone and started talking “I’ve been really..looking forward to this as my final match before I take a few months off. I really wanted to start this off with the topic of Tiffany herself, she’s got a great gig but I do have some characteristics I do not like about her..”

“First off I won’t judge her to much since I too used to be a dumb little bimbo blonde girl who would do anything for very SPECIFIC male attention, cody for example, But what I wasn’t dumb enough to do was be a Dumb little bimbo blonde girl to get a horrible, embarrassing lip filler & stiff ass breast implants & start acting like I’m the bitch who owns this rin-“ just as she was about to finish her sentence Tiffany walked out & climbed into the ring but just before they fought Cody ran down from backstage into the ring and stopped Milena from doing a damn thing “Baby I know you really wanna wrestle right now, but you’re literally in no condition to do that.” Everyone was confused and Tiffany threw her hands out as he literally just interrupted her match while Milena started yelling “Cody knock it off! I’m trying to do my job I want to do this!” He sighed turning towards Tiff “You whats your name?” She scoffed “Tiffany?” He took a heavy breath and pointed his thumb at her “Give it up for tiffany huh guys!?” Rhea & Liv sat backstage watching the mess unfold while the camera gets a shot of Milena covering her face in embarrassment “Listen wwe saw you, we saw you & your very obnoxious cinderblock breasts, Your great, barely, but Maybe just go stand in the corner or something ‘kay?” Tiffany scoffed flipping Cody the finger before he set the mic down on the rings floor and dropped to his knees in front of Mills quietly scolding her for trying to wrestle while she was pregnant no matter how many weeks, he huffed kissing her belly before standing up keeping his hand on her stomach before leaving the ring with mills & taking her backstage.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @valkyrurr @alyyaanna @niknakbucks92 @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[littlelioncub43]

Alright, here we go!

SFW Justin Capshaw headcanons:

He loves playing Animal Crossing with you. Totally has a whole house decorated and dedicated to you. Will make funny dresses/outfits for your character every month, because he loves you, even in the game. His favorite days are rainy days when you both dont have to do anything, so you curl up on the couch and play games together

Makes the best fucking homemade hot chocolate you've ever had. Also lemonade. You have no clue what he puts in there, but it tastes 10000000 times better when he makes it. Which he does! All the time! He loves how you react to his drinks, how the praise just flows from your mouth so easily. Plus he likes to make sure you've gotten enough fluids throughout the day.

Can't do a cartwheel. That's it. That's the headcanon.

He wants to learn how to ballroom dance! He loves watching the couples ballroom competitions from time to time, and is mesmerized by the coordinated movement of the dancers. He will ask you to join him for classes, because who else would he ever want to dance with?

He loves Greek food. Loves it. Always has to have a tub of tzatziki in the house. Has learned how to make dolmades at home as authentically as possible. He can't get enough of it

NSFW:

He isn't always shy. Once he's comfortable around you, this baby boy has the filthiest mouth ever. He used to stutter and whine and blush when you'd coo naughty things to him but now? Now he moans happily. "Such a good boy, Justin, always so good for me," yes, all for you, Mommy, only you! f-fuck yes! Take my cock, Mommy, y'take it so good, l-look so pretty when you ride me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh my god!

Loves to dry hump first thing in the morning from behind with his cock in between your panties and your cunt. He gets to feel how wet you are, and how warm you are without penetrating you. The glide of his hard on through your wetness and the pressure of your gorgeous thighs pressing closed is maddening.

Free use kink, baybeeeeeeeee! Whether it's you fucking/sucking him when he's working from home or him licking/fucking you when you're doing the dishes after dinner— he doesn't care.

Loves wearing a collar a notch too tight. He's got a choking kink too but it's very light. He loves the snugness of it around his neck while your tight pussy suffocates his dick. Oof. When you tug on the leash to get his attention because he's already fucked stupid??? He's in heaven. A very, very, very kinky heaven.

He has been known to prematurely ejaculate. He really tries to hold it back, but it always seems to be out of his control. His fists shaking, his face red, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, jaw switching between slacked and clenching, but it's no match for the teasing and totally not on purpose squeeze of your pussy. Then he's moaning out his apologies while fucking himself as deep as possible. He gets so embarrassed by it too! He's whimpering how you just felt too good, that he's sorry, he'll eat you out or finger you as much as you want until he's ready to go again. You both know he'll eat you out for less than 3 minutes before he's begging to be inside you again, whining about how he'll last longer this time. And he does 😏

[koesterryansmith]

The Fanfic That Was Never Written

that i woke up just this morning thinking about:

Hermione wakes up. Or, that is, she comes to. She doesn't know if she had been asleep or not. All she knows is

she is in a luxurious bubble bath, with foam covering the entire top of the tub. It smells delicious and it is the perfect temperature. Which is good because

she has bad menstrual cramps. But the REAL problem is

she has absolutely no idea where she is.

Looking around, she sees a cozy little room. There is this, the clawfoot bathtub. There is a towel nearby, and her wand is laying on it (did SHE make the tub the perfect temperature?) There is a small double bed against one wall, with a lovely coverlet and matching pillows, which match the lovely color of the carpet. There is a small desk, and a bookshelf with some books that certainly look very interesting. It's all very cozy and lovely and deliberate - a snug lovely room inside a dilapidated house. Looking at the walls, she can see that this lovely room was set up inside the ruins of some old house... as if someone set up a romantic get-a-way inside the Shrieking Shack. In fact, the walls look EXACTLY like the walls she remembered from the Shrieking Shack. Other than that, she has no clue where she is.

She is just beginning to become alarmed when a man walks into the room.

Then she is VERY alarmed.

It is Severus Snape.

He is holding a cup of tea and he is talking about herbs. For the longest time she just gapes at him, incapable of speech. He is not in his professor robe - he is wearing a soft grey sweater and slacks. His hair isn't hanging lanky and unwashed around his face - it is clean and soft. Still wet. It is combed and falling around his face just now he looks.... almost handsome...

But the strangest thing of all is his voice. As he pulls the chair from the desk up to the bathtub, sitting on it, handing her the steaming cup of tea, telling her he is afraid he might have put in too much honey...

...she barely recognizes his voice. It IS his voice, of course. She would recognize it anywhere. But he's speaking so casually. So gently. So softly. As if they were in the library. In the library, sharing a joke. She's never heard this voice before. She never imagined it existed.

And THEN she registered what he was saying.

He had been describing how the first herb in the tea might taste combined with the second herb.

BOTH of which, she knows, are a treatment for cramps.

He made her tea for her cramps. He knows she is in pain. He is asking her, just now, if the bath is helping.

She can't speak. She is too confused, holding the steaming cup of tea, staring at him.

Finally, at his insistence (as he strokes her hair?!?! And he's calling her Decoris and Bellulus. She recognizes the Latin. He is calling her 'beautiful.') she drinks her tea. It is the perfect temperature. She sips, trying to clear her head.

As he talks, she keeps sipping it from the cup. That means she doesn't have to talk. HE keeps talking, however. Talking about herbs. The special one in her tea was grown in Wales. The weather in Wales has been poor. He speaks about the repercussions of a poor crop of this herb next year. As he speaks, she tries to piece it all together.

She knows who she is. She knows who this man is. But she cannot fathom why they are here, nor where here is. Nor can she fathom why he is talking to her so tenderly. So gently.

She only knows this: They are intimate. This man is not just her lover, he is a lover who will make her a hot herbal bath and brew her a special tea when she has menstrual cramps. This is their romantic get-a-way, a room deliberately created and hidden inside some other, dilapidated house. They are there together. And they are talking about herbs and the weather in Wales.

Now, in the ORIGINAL idea, Hermione considers going to bed with him, snuggling in that cozy bed, in their pajamas, hoping, desperately, that when she wakes up in the morning, this will all make sense. Spending the night in his arms, in the arms of the man she had such a hopeless crush on as a teenager, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world...

BUT WHEN I WOKE UP THIS MORNING I realized that Hermione is a very practical person, and that it would make far more sense to just STATE THE OBVIOUS.

So, this morning, I realized that this whole story ends this way:

She finishes the tea. She can't put it off anymore. She has to speak.

"Professor Snape?"

He was standing up, but now he turns to her, startled. The look on his face is unreadable... there is concern... but also worry... alarm... then worry again...

He doesn't sit back down on the chair. He kneels beside the tub. He looks closely into her face

And, when she doesn't finish the sentence, he answeres.

"...yes, Professor Granger?"

[thank-god-and-you]

[Read Secretum Lingua Caritate on FFN]

Probably requested by @annambates or @awesomegreentie

“Damn!”

John’s irritated curse resonates through the cottage. Anna winces as Johnny giggles, clapping his sudsy hands together in the bathtub.

“John!” she calls in return, exasperated herself. “Don’t say that!”

She hears the echo of her husband’s cane as he makes his way towards the bathroom, and he pokes his head around the door.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, not sounding as apologetic as he should. “Johnny’s left one of his bricks out. I didn’t see it and stepped on it.” He gestures down to his foot.

Since she can’t assess the damage through a sock, Anna’s compassion remains limited. “Even so, I don’t want you saying such words in Johnny’s earshot. You know what children are like, they’re sponges at this age!”

Johnny splashes water as if in agreement, sending his little boat spinning as if on a tidal wave. Anna keeps a hold on him to stop him from lurching after it, expertly pushing it back into his tiny hands as she turns back to her husband.

“Next time, watch where you’re putting your feet,” she scolds him gently. “You might need glasses if you didn’t see it.”

John scowls at her, more wounded pride than irascibility. “I don’t need glasses. We need to start teaching Johnny to put his things away when he’s had them.”

“He can’t walk or talk,” Anna says, rolling her eyes. “He’s hardly going to clean up after himself.”

“You don’t sound very sympathetic,” John pouts, sitting himself on the lip of the tub.

“That’s because I’m not,” she says, reaching across for the flannel to soap Johnny’s back. Their son giggles, throwing suds up in front of him.

“Is that what life has become now? Can a man no longer get pity from his wife?”

“Not with injuries of his own making.”

“Well, if that’s the kind of reception I get, I’m going,” John grumbles, but he belies his words by bending down to drop a kiss into her hair, nuzzling against her temple for a brief moment.

“We won’t be long,” Anna tells him, and watches him leave the room with affectionate impatience.

She finishes bathing Johnny and gathers him into her arms to return to his little bedroom.  He babbles happily, his blond hair tufting on his head with the gentle towelling it’s received. She tucks him into snug bedclothes before he can get too cold, no easy feat with his flailing arms and legs, and rewards him with a tickle to his round tummy when she’s done. Johnny giggles loudly, his fat little appendages waving more enthusiastically in delight.

“Mamamamamamamam,” he squeals, reaching out to grab at an errant curl of her hair.

Anna doesn’t know if she can count that as his first word or not. There’s no doubt that he’s getting closer to it every day that passes, but she doesn’t think it’s distinct enough yet.

At that moment, John appears in the doorway. He’s divested himself of his jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“Mamamamamamamam,” Johnny squeals again upon seeing him.

“No,” John corrects, venturing further into the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, “I’m Dada, remember? Da-da.”

“Stop trying to confuse him,” Anna scolds. “We both know he’s supposed to say Mama first. Isn’t that right, my darling?” she goes back to tickling his tummy. “Ma-ma!”

“Mamamamamamamam!”

“I see that’s going just as well for you,” John smirks. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of a proper greeting.”

“Honestly, men. So insecure the moment a woman’s attention is elsewhere for even a moment.”

“Honestly, women,” he counters, “forgetting all about their men once they’ve got the baby they wanted.”

They laugh at each other, and Anna stretches up on her knees to plant a soft kiss onto his mouth. He steadies her with a hand on her waist, inviting her closer. She doesn’t resist him. Any mild irritation that might have been lingering before with his liberal use of colourful language around their son’s delicate ears melts away with his careful passion.

“How’s work?” she asks when she pulls away.

John sighs. “Nothing new to report. Thomas has been giving me a headache, as usual. I’ve missed having you there.”

“I’ve missed seeing you too,” she admits. She’s taken a couple of days off to stay at home with Johnny, who has been a little grizzly with a cough. Nothing to worry about, Doctor Clarkson had reassured them, but Anna doesn’t want to leave her son in the care of Nanny. Lady Mary agrees with her, knowing how she struggled to conceive, and has granted her the time to be with him for her own peace of mind.

“Johnny looks brighter,” John observes, moving his large hand to rest gently atop her own on Johnny’s stomach.

“He is,” she agrees. “Another day or two and I should be back at work.”  But she can’t pretend that she hasn’t enjoyed her time being at home with her son. She loves her work at Downton, of course, but sometimes she wonders if they should revisit the old idea of the hotel. It’s been put on hold time and time again for one reason or another, but now could be the perfect moment to give it proper consideration again. Johnny is getting older, they could work their schedule around their own needs instead of the family’s, and it would give them more time to spend together. Anna would miss working for Lady Mary, of course she would, but her priorities have changed over the years, especially in the more recent one with the birth of their son.

She makes a note to bring the subject up to John on their next half-day, when they have the time to have a proper discussion about it.

“Come on,” she says gently now, pushing that stubborn strand of hair away from her husband’s forehead. “Let me put Johnny to bed and I’ll get supper out of the oven for you.”

“No, I’ll do that,” he says. “I haven’t seen him all day, I’d like to.”

Anna nods in understanding, standing. “Well, don’t be too long. You must be hungry.”

She watches as he scoops their son gently into his arms and carries him out of the room, cradling him with devotion.

Yes, they need to have the discussion very soon indeed.

-- --

The following weeks pass smoothly. Anna returns to work and Johnny returns to the nursery alongside the Crawley children, and they fall into the same routine that has governed their lives since Johnny’s birth. They collect him each night once their duties are done and make the walk back down to the cottage with him tucked tight into his pram. Sometimes he is grumpy at being disturbed from his warm and cosy cot in the nursery, and Anna always feels a stab of guilt at his fussing. A reproachful part of her that is growing increasingly difficult to ignore tells her that he should have been tucked up in his own bed many hours before.

They still want their old dream, of course. The image of the hotel has been a constant in her picture of the future, perhaps only dimming briefly through the darkest period of her life. The timing just never seems to be quite right.

But perhaps now is the time to make the timing right. She feels the tug of exhaustion at the end of a long day, and hasn’t failed to notice the weary lines on John’s face, or the way he drags himself up the stairs at night. He hates to acknowledge it and she feels disloyal for thinking it, but he’s not getting any younger, and while running their own business would be very hard work, it’s nothing they aren’t used to already and they could at least be finished at a reasonable hour every evening, giving them more quality time to spend together and with their son. A half-day every fortnight hardly seems adequate when she thinks about all the struggles they had to bring him into the world.

And so she broaches the subject first, knowing that John will always go at her pace, wait for her to make the choice, as he has done ever since that awful, dark night all those years ago, making sure she does it as John settles himself in bed beside her.

“I think it’s time,” she says.

John pauses in the middle of settling on his side, twisting his head on the pillow, a frown on his face. “Time for what?”

She clarifies, “Time to start looking for our hotel. I want to. This is the right moment now.”

For a moment, John stares at her uncomprehendingly. “What?”

She rolls her eyes at his obliviousness, but supposes she’ll let him off. After all, it’s been a long day, and she’s voiced her wishes quite out of the blue. “The hotel,” she repeats. “Our future. It’s time we started planning. I don’t want us to delay any longer. We’ve done enough of that already.”

The smile that spreads across John’s face, slightly disbelieving, deliriously happy, makes her heart contract in her chest. She knows he would have liked to have pursued that dream a long time ago, but had never pushed her on the subject, giving her full control over their future. She had always felt slightly anxious at the thought of leaving everyone she knew behind, especially after the support she had received during the most awful times in her life, but now she feels regretful. Guilty for making John delay.

He deserves the chance to be included in all of the special milestones in his son’s life, not hearing about them second-hand from Nanny. He’d already been denied the opportunity to be there for her when she had miscarried before, when she’d been so terrified that she was losing Johnny.

She doesn’t want to miss out on those important milestones. How jealous and upset would she be if it was Nanny who witnessed his first steps, and not her, his mother? Nothing is more important to her than her son, her family, and it’s time that she made that clear once and for all.

“Our future,” John breathes, his whole face aglow with boyish delight. “Do you mean it, Anna?”

“I do,” she reassures him. “It’s time.”

John reaches across for her, his arm warm and heavy across her stomach as he leans down to kiss her with breathless delight. She smiles against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

At that moment, they are interrupted by a distinctive voice.

“Damn! Damn!”

For a moment, they’re both frozen; then Anna pulls away from her husband’s mouth, wide-eyed, to peer into the cot at the side of their bed.

“Was that…?” she asks faintly.

John’s expression is caught somewhere between confused and amused. “I think so, yes.”

As one, they scramble across the mattress to peer into the cot. Johnny pulls himself up onto stocky little legs, peering up at them with reproach, as if he’s quite tired of not being the centre of their universe.  Noticing that he now has their full attention, he breaks into a toothless smile, reaching up for them.

“Damn!” he repeats.

“…His first word,” Anna says, horrified.

“Bloody hell,” says John, and she elbows him in the stomach. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“You know very well, John Bates! This is your fault!”

“My fault?”

“Well, he hasn’t heard that language from me! How many times have I told you that babies are like sponges at this age? Oh, John, I could swing for you! Nanny will have a heart attack if she hears!”

Johnny reaches up beseechingly. “Damn! Damn!”

Anna reaches down for him, but he falls down on his bottom, his face reddening in that tell-tale way that tells a tantrum might be on its way.

“Damn!” he insists.

Anna freezes, comprehension trickling through her veins in a cool.

“Oh,” she says softly. “I understand now.”

“Understand what?” says John at her back. “Anna, what is it?”

“Damn! Damn!”

“Johnny wants you,” she says.

“What?”

“It’s what he’s calling you,” she says faintly. “Like Miss Sybbie calls Lord Grantham ‘Donk’. He’s heard you say it and now he thinks it’s your name. Look, he’s reaching for you.”

On cue, Johnny lifts his arms above his head, grasping fruitlessly at thin air. There’s a tell-tale hitch in his voice this time as he repeats the dreaded word. If John doesn’t pick him up now, a full-blown tantrum will explode, and that’s the last thing they want after an exhausting day.

“Oh, good God,” he groans, capitulating. Johnny’s displeasure evolves into satisfied coos as John hitches him against his shoulder. John bounces him slightly as he casts Anna a sheepish look. “I suppose all I can do is apologise?”

Anna groans, burying her face in her hands. “This is unbelievable. We’re not going to be able to take him into polite society again if he’s going to shout obscenities at people. Poor Nanny will be absolutely mortified, and I don’t know how I’m going to face the others. It’ll probably finish Mr. Carson off once and for all. And as for you, well, I’d probably leave the country now if I were you. He’s going to be giving you a very stern talking to.”

John is quiet for a moment. And then he raises an eyebrow, fixing her with a beseeching look. “What do you say to us leaving for our dream hotel right now?”

She can’t help it. She laughs. Snugs her arms around his waist and nestles against his side as he pulls her closer. Johnny continues to gurgle happily.

It might have been an unexpected and unwanted end to the day in many ways, but she can’t deny this: she wouldn’t change a thing about her beautiful little family for all the tea in China.

Even that pesky first word if it means that she gets to witness one of the most important milestones in her cherished son’s life.

She’ll just have to come down extra hard on John as punishment.

After all, the last thing they need is for his second word to be something like ‘hell’…

[skylarstark4826]

BATHING

The great, fire-heated, polished stone bathtub had been made to order for Shep Hazard’s very large form. This meant there was ample room for two moderately-sized humans. Even with the abundance of space, there had been barely a moment so far that Tech and Phee’s bodies had not been in physical contact, since the ‘bathing’ began.

Shep had given one of his many extra bedrooms to Phee quite long ago, and now, she and Tech shared it, along with the bed. When she had asked Shep if she and Tech could have the place to themselves for one night, the jovial mayor had been more than happy to oblige. Everyone on Pabu loved the idea of Phee and Tech together, and the entire population made sure to do anything Shep asked of them to encourage the relationship.

Up until now, Phee had made it a point to keep her relationships to a minimum. It was necessary in her line of work; she’d made enemies out there, on her quest to liberate ancient wonders. Enemies that wouldn’t hesitate to use her loved ones as leverage against her. She was loath to ever let her friends come to harm because of her… but as much as she’d tried, she couldn’t fight her attraction to Tech for very long at all.

Tech, naturally, had no experience whatsoever with romantic relationships. He’d been a soldier from birth, and the genetic mutations that gave him such exceptional intelligence also stunted his emotional maturity. But Phee was insistent and persuasive, and had gradually chipped away the armor of facts and statistics with which he protected himself.

On his knees in the tub, Tech lit one last oil lamp, carefully placed on the wide rim of the huge basin. Pabu’s ruby sun had nearly vanished below the line betwixt sea and sky, and he found the mayor’s private bathing chamber needed a hint more light, if he and his partner were to fully appreciate every detail of one another’s bodies.

“Come to me, Brown Eyes,” Phee purred from where she sat at one end of the tub.

The endearment made Tech shiver, even in the pleasantly-warm water. He slid himself backwards to sit in-between Phee's drawn-up knees, and carefully lay back against her chest. The hot, relaxing, herbal-scented water lapped around their bodies, steam softly rising, creating a hot, misty haze in the room.

Phee’s pretty hands came up on either side of him, and the strong, lithe arms enfolded Tech’s slim form, resting over his belly and chest, holding him snug against her butter-smooth torso.

Feeling a bit restrained, Tech instinctively tensed a bit. He felt the lady behind him chuckle gently, the pillowy breasts against his back rumbling like gentle thunder.

"At ease, Trooper," she said. "I am in charge, tonight, remember?"

Tech nodded a little, and tried his best to let his guard down, to let go, to allow someone else to be in control. He swallowed hard, taking a deep, calming breath.

"Don't be nervous," Phee's soft, warm voice murmured against his ear. "You know I would never hurt you."

The pirate lady’s graceful hands picked up the bar of solidified cleansing oil, lathered it, and then slowly moved to slide over Tech's chest and stomach. The oil made Phee’s delicate fingers glide slickly across his sensitive flesh, leaving trails of bubbles on his smooth skin.

"I only want to make you feel good, baby."

Phee’s hands moved up and down, caressing the flat planes of Tech’s abdominal muscles, making them quiver and tremble in response. The nimble fingertips traced patterns over his pectorals, circling his nipples, drawing in closer and closer to the small, sensitized buds with each pass.

Her left arm slid around Tech’s narrow waist and held him in place, giving her right hand the freedom to explore the sensitive, responsive, beautiful details of his torso.

The velvet fingertips softly circled Tech's right nipple, teasing the smooth, dusky areola with its pebbly surface, and its scattering of sandy hairs. The tender little nub tightened and hardened, becoming erect and more sensitive. He moaned as Phee lightly pinched the little point of flesh, rolling it gently between her thumb and forefinger.

"Does that feel good?" came the sultry voice, moist lips brushing Tech's neck, just below his ear.

He couldn't find his voice, so he just nodded a little.

Phee’s hand drifted lightly across his breastbone, pausing for the fingertips to skim lightly up and down his sternum for a few moments, raking through the sparse hair, before zeroing in on his other nipple. The second sensual hotspot was given the same share of reverent attention as its twin, hard fingertips gliding delicately over his areola, drawing in more tightly, circling and circling, closer and closer, until the pert, rigid little bud itself was caressed and tickled.

Tech had taken to breathing in hard through his nose, and out through his mouth, as if he were in labor. It was partly so he would remember to breathe at all, and partly to keep control over himself, so he wouldn't climax before either he or his partner were ready. It was a challenge, to say the least….

Genoa's hand came up then, her knuckles laying against Tech's right cheek, gently turning his head to the side. The clone allowed himself to be guided, not really understanding, until Phee’s lips found his earlobe, and began suckling it.

"Ohh...," Tech moaned, leaning in to the full, sensual, and adoring lips. As his earlobe and side of his neck were worshipped by Phee's talented lips and tongue, she lathered her hands again, and brought them both up to caress his neck. The firm touch started at his hairline, then crept, spider-like, softly downward, easing the tension out of the muscles, nails softly scratching over the column of his throat, then up to trail over his sharp jawline.

"Give me your hands," the soft, commanding voice said into Tech's ear.

He obediently lifted his hands out of the water, and his wrists were seized, and gently pulled upward. Tech allowed his elbows to be bent, clasping his hands behind Phee's head, snuggling his own head back into the crook of her neck. After another quick lathering of her hands, Phee rested them both on Tech's shoulders, massaging them, then moving downward over his chest, then outward to his vulnerable armpits.

Tech stiffened slightly as his lover's hands drew near to that most ticklish region, but aside from briefly ruffling the thin patches of hair there, the hands only lingered at his underarms for a moment, before continuing downward.

The gentle, lather-slicked palms glided over his ribcage; the touch just firm enough not to be ticklish. Then lower still, over the taut, broad muscles of his sides, and then even lower, to rest at the edges of his abdomen. There, Phee stiffened her fingers into claws and raked them slowly up and down Tech's belly, leaving tracks in the layer of sudsy bubbles that covered his perfect skin.

Tech was pressed back against Phee, his chest heaving slightly at the sensations. The sudsy fingers crept inward, long nails drawing circles around his navel, closing in on the sensitive little divot. The clone arched his back, stretching the skin of his belly under the attentive fingers. As before, his partner kept his touch firm enough not to tickle.

Hands drifting lower, Phee traced the pad of her middle finger delicately around the little hollow of Tech's navel, brushing over the rim, then slipping inside to probe the soft, exquisitely-sensitive little folds.

Tech was panting now, his eyes closed, sweat beading on his upper lip and brow as the blood rushed through his body, burning him from within, every touch of his talented partner making his body react, like a skilled musician coaxing beauty from his chosen instrument. His body was the instrument, and Phee Genoa was the prodigious Maestro who urged it to sing.

The delicate hand drifted lower, following the sparse scribble of light brown hair that trailed downward from Tech's navel to spread into the meager thatch between his long legs. Phee's fingers softly carded through the kinky curls at the base of his cock, taking care not to touch that pulsating, throbbing, engorged and eager organ... at least not yet.

Instead, she moved her hand to the junction between Tech's thigh and groin, and lightly fingered the taut, sensitive skin there. She followed suit with the opposite thigh.

Tech was moaning now, so deeply and desperately that it sounded almost like sobs. Every so often, his hips gave a reflex-like twitch as he tried to get Phee to touch his cock.

"Can you hear me, Brown Eyes?" Genoa asked, ruffling the hair of Tech's groin, but still refusing to touch the twitching, bobbing member at the center.

"Y-yes...," Tech whimpered, "Please, Phee... do it...."

"Soon," the playful pirate said, reaching her other hand to softly caress her partner's tummy, spider-like fingers crawling leisurely back and forth across the oh, so sensitive belly-button and the sensitized skin surrounding it.

"Please!" Tech choked, thrusting his hips against his partner's hand, desperate to increase the friction. “Please… t-touch me… touch it.…”

"There's something I need to tell you, first," Phee murmured, kissing Tech's sweaty neck. "A secret."

"Anything... just please... finish me...."

"Patience, Quick Draw," the dark-skinned lady said with a throaty chuckle, as if relishing the power she had over him. Her soft fingers circled the base of Tech's cock, her other hand still fondling the hard, flat, sudsy stomach, making the muscles there flutter and dance. "Are you ready to hear my secret?"

Tech was weeping with need, and could only nod, grunting in affirmation.

Phee leaned close enough to brush his lips over the clone’s ear, closed her eyes, and whispered... "I love you."

And with that, she wrapped her talented fingers around Tech's cock, and slowly slid them from the root to the tip, brushing her thumb over the rosy crown, glossy with pre-cum.

"NNNGH!" Tech moaned, arching his neck back, gripping the edges of the basin with both hands.

Phee smiled, and repeated the motion a few times, gliding her hand softly up and down her lover’s hard shaft, putting extra pressure on the sensitive underside, just below the head. Tech had been so close to his climax, that it took mere seconds to bring him over the edge.

"AAAAAHH!" the clone wailed, gasping as he orgasmed in the pirate’s soft hand, copious streams of cum jetting the length of the bathtub, to land in cloudy trails in the cooling water.

"PHEE!" Tech sobbed as he spent himself to the last drop, and all at once, his body went absolutely limp to flop against Phee’s smooth, well-endowed chest.

"Tech?" Phee murmured quietly after a minute or two, shaking the clone gently by the shoulder. "Brown Eyes?"

There was no response, and no signs of life. Phee Genoa quickly sat up and tilted the insensate clone back so she could see his face. She slapped lightly at the flushed cheeks, her heart starting to pound with worry.

"Tech! Hey!"

Finally, Tech moaned faintly and reached up blindly to cup Phee’s cheek in one hand.

"Kark it all," Phee heaved a sigh of relief, taking Tech’s hand in her own. "Baby, you scared the poodoo out of me."

The clone mumbled an incoherent reply, and Phee leaned closer to his face, turning her head to place her ear near the spent man’s lips. "What was that?" She inquired.

"Thank you."

Giving a fond chuckle, Phee snagged the chain of the tub stopper with her toes and pulled it out, letting the water drain. She slid out from under her still-limp lover and climbed out of the tub to retrieve a towel. Then she gently, lovingly, patted his slim body dry from head to toe.

After recovering for another minute or so, Tech rested his hands on the edges of the tub and slowly pushed himself to his feet. As he stepped out of the tub onto the smooth, stone floor, he swayed a little, reaching out for Phee.

“Easy there, baby,” she said, slipping her arm around his waist and guiding him through the refresher door into their shared bedroom. She lowered him carefully onto the bed and tenderly drew the lightweight, silky covers over him.

"Thank you," Tech breathed again, reaching up to kiss Phee’s cheek as she leaned over him. "I… have never felt like that, before."

"You let someone else have control, for once," Phee said softly, kissing the top of his head, nuzzling the damp hair.

"Never thought letting someone else control me could be so… freeing," Tech quipped as Phee walked around to her side of the bed.

"I take it you enjoyed it?" She asked playfully.

“I should say so…. I nearly climaxed into a coma," Tech murmured sleepily as his snickering partner slid under the covers next to him.

"I'll take it as a compliment," Phee said quietly, pulling him into her arms and snuggling down into the bed with him.

“What about next time?" Tech asked, slurring his words as sleep began to overtake his deliciously-expended body. “Can I be in charge?”

"I think that’s only fair," Phee replied, rising up on one elbow and smiling down at the beloved face gazing sleepily up at her.

"Good."

She laid back down and nestled against Tech as he slipped his arms around her. A few minutes passed and they were nearly asleep, when Tech spoke again.

“In case it was not obvious…,” he began, hesitantly.

“Hmm?” Phee hummed sleepily in response, sliding one hand up the smooth, cool expanse of Tech’s back to tousle the short, straight hairs of his nape.

“…I love you, too.”

They drifted off to sleep together, tucked close to one another, safe in each other’s arms.

THE END

[aconflagrationofmyown]

i take it the colonel isn’t gonna be a fan of gigi especially if shes breaking what he would deem to be appropriate or right for elvis to do in public. i despise that man so much

Right, no I think he wouldn’t. But to be honest, initially I reckon he thinks she’s another Ten Day Wonder as do the majority of Elvis’ entourage, probs including Vernon. So she’s not really too much of a bother -it’s just when she lasts and lasts -and starts to swell- that everyone realizes this one might be a staple. Better yet, THE staple one.

…Also, didn’t you read the history articles about how while Elvis and Gigi were on the road touring in late autumn of ‘77, the colonel was found dead while relaxing in a hotel hot tub? Terribly dangerous contraptions for those individuals with health concerns like diabetes and hypertension. It was all very *sad* and unexpected and poor Elvis has to cancel the remainder of the tour and take a sabbatical of grief spent inside Gigi’s snug little snatch 😌