bakerstreet | You hate my mustache.

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You hate my mustache.

The Personal Hygiene Shipping Meme

Personal hygiene is just that - personal. By the time we've come to a point in our lives where we notice that the concept exists and we should be prudent about it, we can take care of ourselves. There are also many practical reasons why we don't involve other people in this process. We're not too keen on showing off parts to be cleaned that are private in most contexts, and there's definitely an ingrained aversion to showing so much soft, fleshy skin. Hot water or a sharp razor could spell dangerous with a capital D should they come into the hands of someone with a vendetta against you. No need to be extra vulnerable.

So, if you're involving another person in your cleansing routines, it must be someone you trust. Not only that, but it's most likely someone you're comfortable with and likely at least somewhat open to being intimate with. You may not be dropping all your clothing in front of them, but it's still you opening yourself up to touching and closeness unparalleled in more "usual" moments.

Established and burgeoning couples (or not-so-couples) can bond through this showing of care and good faith. Will you like being pampered and find the attention endearing? Or will things go terribly, terribly wrong?

...you never should have let them near that shaving cream.

Comment with your character and preferences.
Smut is not required. Mention if you want/don't want it.
Reply to others and use the RNG.

Comfort: You've decided to pitch in a helping hand to get your partner to unwind, and warm water or suds may do the trick.
Romantic: The sole purpose of this endeavor is to set a lovey-dovey mood. No shame here!
It Started Out Platonic...: What a good pal you are, volunteering to give your friend a good scrub. Of course, you didn't count on the cute way she squirms as you scrub her back or how he blushes when you shampoo his scalp.
No Choice: Currently, you're unable to clean yourself up. That means that you need assistance, and it might as well be the person you lov- tolerate the most.
Open: You have trust issues. Actually, you have backlogs of trust issues. Still, you want to show the person you love that you're willing and trying to change for them, and what better way than letting down your walls and having the assist in your grooming?
Shave: Whether it's your face, your legs, or...your other places you've decided to shave, there's a certain intimacy involved in letting your lover do it for you. Let's hope they won't leave you looking like you got into a battle with a book with the paper cuts to prove it.
Reluctant: They want to get you clean. You don't want to show off your body at all. It's injured, it looks weird, what if they don't like it...
Forced: You love them, you really do, but you won't kiss them if they continue to look like an unwashed hobo clown. You have to draw the line somewhere, and if they won't take action, you will.
Beat Up: You've been trampled in a fight. Your partner isn't about to let you wallow around in your own mud and blood.
Hair: Some find that there's nothing quite as soothing as getting their hair washed or brushed. Of course, those with more luxurious locks may find any hair care a burden, so the assistance is appreciated.
Make Up: They think you're beautiful already. See how they'll paint you up when they get the chance.
Unique: If you're not human, you probably have your own proceeders you have to do to keep all spiffied up. There are wings with stray feathers to pluck, horns on heads to polish, scales to shave down, all sorts of tasks! Introduce your ignorant (and most likely human) boyfriend or girlfriend to your world...and your pain.
Accommodations: Those with disabilities or prosthetics may also have their own routines, and anyone who wants to be with them should learn how to pitch in.
Sponge Bath: You don't have enough water to do this right or you just want to give them a nice rub and scrub with a gentle sponge or wash cloth.
Wound Care: In order for wounds to heal, proper care must be taken. Bandages have to be changed and cuts cleaned out. It's certainly easier when you don't have to do it all by yourself.
Together: You're both cleaning up, taking a bath, splish splash, in the same tub because there's no where else to go. This is the most likely smut option, even if, again, it starts off "platonic."
Clothing: Don't forget that clean clothes are an important part of personal hygiene. Always make sure your partner has a nice, fresh outfit, even if it's to your taste and not theirs.
I've Made a Terrible Mistake: Somehow, everything's now shit. This little experiment went haywire and you may be sporting anything from the worst hairdo of your life to a Columbian necktie.
FREE SPACE

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[ Everything is perfect. She thinks she might have to agree with that.

She's just in the midst of enjoying the lovely kneading of his fingers returning to her hair when the quick kiss and graze of Ferdinand's teeth draws a startled squeak from her, that blush flaring up all over again. He's so good at catching her off-guard, whether here or in more publicly appropriate places – though it's hard to be put out over these kinds of surprises.

His fingers are still working through her hair, but she hasn't bothered to close her eyes yet. Well, she reasons, she doesn't want to impact visibility of the hair-washing, so it seems the obvious solution now is to retaliate some other way.

After a moment of hesitation, the hands on his chest drift absently higher, her fingertips drawing invisible little patterns over the lines of muscle and sinew. ]

Don't, um, get soap in my eyes, okay?

[ Her tone, however, gives away how much she's not terribly worried about that. ]

[ He gradually starts making his way forward, starting with the hair on the top of her head before working his way down just behind her temples. Those eagerly kneading fingers are really taking their time, both to make certain that her hair is nice and lathered up and to give her scalp that gentle, tender massage that he plans on giving the rest of her at some point.

His eyes flit down to where her hands touch his chest, which has the pleasant side effect of also allowing him to gaze along her body. They've seen a lot of each other naked lately, but it never gets old for him. There's something naturally graceful and beautiful about her body, something that makes it uniquely hers. And while graceful probably isn't a word that Bernadetta would ever use to describe herself, there's a certain grace to the way she moves when they're being... intimate.

Of course, if he starts thinking about that too much, she'll probably be able to tell. She is on his lap, after all. ]

Alright, but you may need to close them. I promise I will not go anywhere.

[ There's a hint of playfulness to his voice, but it still carries that characteristic warmth. Not just the normal warmth with which he speaks, but the warmth that he reserves just for her. It's lower and breathier, and the smooth edges of his voice are just a little bit less polished. ]

[ It's a silly promise made in teasing jest, but the quiet, frantic part of Bernie that hovers in the background seems more than suitably settled by his words. Don't be dumb, Bernie, she chastises herself. ]

Fine, fine...

[ She wrinkles her nose at him, like he's asking such a hardship of her, but her smile sneaks through as she dutifully closes her eyes. She's not especially concerned about stinging shampoo, but better safe than sorry.

(All the while, her hands keep drawing designs on his chest, creeping up the path of his pulse along his throat. It's mostly complete nonsense – or maybe it's reminiscent of the shape of a prickly vine she finds charming. Who knows!) ]

[ It's hard not to lean into those touches, particularly as they near the sensitive skin of his throat. He knows she's probably doing it unconsciously, but her hands do have a way of finding all the sensitive points on his body. Even having his chest touched feels nice, which is something he hadn't really expected.

But it won't distract him from shampooing her hair. His fingers reach above her bangs, and he sweeps them back, making sure to keep any of the suds from making it to her forehead. His gaze only occasionally wanders down to her body as he tries to maintain some semblance of restraint, though there's only so much he can manage. ]

I should have you on my lap more often.

[ It is the right size for her. And maybe he is letting his imagination wander a bit, contemplating how their bodies could move together in this position some day while letting them keep their lips together all the while...

It really is unfair how easily she can make his mind wander without even trying, even when he's completely engrossed with washing her hair. ]

[ In their mutual defense, they spent their teen years repressed and then at war. It's not an environment that makes for sexual comfort and freedom – and Ferdinand isn't the only one regularly distracted. She is in his lap, after all, and he's completely naked and so is she, and the playful reminder of exactly that makes her squirm, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. ]

I'd like that a lot, I think.

[ Actually, she's pretty sure she would definitely like it, but she's trying not to sound as painfully eager as she is.

One of her eyes cracks open to peek at him. ]

That means you have to be here more often.

[ He greets her opening eye with a gentle smile, though there's a glimmer of loving, gentle mischief in his eye. He definitely noticed how she squirmed on his lap, and while he might not always be the most observant individual when it comes to how others are feeling, he knows Bernadetta well enough to know that she must be thinking of some of the same things as he is. ]

I think I can manage that.

[ Now that her hair is thoroughly shampooed, it's time to let it sit for a few minutes. He dips his hands beneath the water's surface to disperse the small traces of shampoo left on them, then moves them rather directly to her hips. ]

You may want to go ahead and get started with my hair. I fear I will not be able to keep my hands put for much longer.

[ As if to playfully reinforce his point, one of his hands slides downward slightly, resting on the outside of her upper thigh. ]

[ He startles another squeak from her that dissolves into a giggle. ]

I guess you have been pretty patient so far.

[ She reaches up with the back of her hand to brush away any potential bubbles along her hairline, even though she's sure Ferdinand was diligent about any runaways that might try to make it into her eyes. (Habit, as with many of her little anxious actions.)

Satisfied, she reaches over his shoulder for the shampoo, but before she fills her hands, she closes that short distance between them for another kiss. It's deeper, insistent, and she lets it linger more than is strictly necessary. When their lips part, she murmurs, ]

Just be patient for a little longer, okay?

[ And with one last swipe of her tongue across his bottom lip, she sits back on his knees to pop the glass stopper on the shampoo. ]

And don't distract me. [ She manages a sort of faux-sternness that she absolutely can't keep up for more than a breath or two. ]

[ That kiss takes him by surprise, but there's no hesitation before he starts kissing her back, matching her enthusiasm with his own. It's over far too quickly, but he understands why. She has shampoo in her hair, and they need to finish bathing.

And yet.

There's a spot on his lower lip that's particularly sensitive. Ticklish, one might say. It's right at the lower edge, just to one side of the center. And when Bernadetta's tongue roams over it, his shoulders tremble uncontrollably, his hands momentarily gripping not to the point where it becomes painful, but certainly to the point where it's noticeable. ]

A-ah... yes, I will try.

[ She did just make it a little more difficult for him to manage that, and one potential distraction bobs upward against her leg from between his, not yet erect but certainly headed in that direction. She tends to have that effect on him whether she tries to or not, but she's especially effective when she puts her mind to it.

He shifts a bit beneath her, both to try to alleviate the way he brushes up against her and in an attempt to make his hair more accessible for her. Even with her seated on his lap, he has a couple of inches on her, so she may need him to slouch a bit so that she can see what she's doing. ]

[ Bernadetta notices his reaction, because how can she not? Her mind races with the possibilities, brief as that new discovery may be (what if she licks him like that again? Nibbles? Sucks?), but they do have something to deal with before she can let her attention waver too heavily.

... No matter how much her curiosity threatens to get the better of her.

She's trying not to add to the distraction she clearly demanded he avoid, at least while there are soapy suds that might trickle into unwelcome places; it would decidedly ruin the mood if she ended up with stinging, watery eyes. She fills her palms with the shampoo, the bottle once more returned to its home, and though Ferdinand shifted to try and avoid friction, Bernie is nowhere near so careful. What kind of distraction is she going to suffer if she scoots closer to let his hardening cock graze across her thigh in the water? It's not going to impact what she has to do with the shampoo, after all.

(And she's apparently already developing a taste for teasing Ferdinand.)

Rubbing her hands together, she works up a thick lather, sitting up a bit straighter to accommodate his helpful slouch, even if it gives him something more of a faceful of her petite breasts. (Oops.) Intent on her work, her fingers thread into his thick hair at the back of his head, mirroring a similar kneading to work the bubbles through the oil. ]

[ He can do little more than squirm as her thigh rubs against him in such a teasing, suggestive way. She is, after all, busy putting shampoo in his hair, so he can't tell for certain whether it's intentional or not.

(If he figures out that it is, he might just have to get some payback later.)

When his eyes slowly drift open, the first sight that greets him is her chest. And what a lovely chest it is. Maybe next to women like Edelgard or Dorothea, she would feel inadequate in that department by comparison, but to Ferdinand, nothing could be farther from the truth. Those curves are very attractive to him, so much so that his thoughts immediately drift to less than wholesome thoughts as soon as he glimpses them.

He shelves those thoughts for later. His gradually stiffening erection is already brushing against her lower thigh, and if he attempts to act on them, one or both of them may end up with shampoo in their eyes. That would definitely ruin the mood. But at least the kneading of her fingers is relaxing enough to give him somewhat of a distraction. ]

Mmm... you feel wonderful.

[ He angles his head into her touch like a content Aegir Hound, eyes closing again. The hand on her outer thigh strokes slowly at her skin, not in an attempt to tease her, but simply because he needs to touch her. (She should just be glad he's not moving it elsewhere. He'd considered putting it on her rear, which is still something he's considering.) ]

[ Despite how she teases him, she's not terribly distracted by the gentle, absent touch of his hand along her thigh. She really wants nothing more than to absorb every bit of affection he can offer her, though she's doing her best not to seem too selfish or needy. As eager as she is, the last thing she wants to do is demand too much of him.

Her smile is softer, lacking its mischievous edge. He has that alluring rumble in his voice, content and sweet and far more at ease than she thinks she ever heard before they were close. Distantly, she realizes that she must be the cause of it, even if she struggles to grasp what Ferdinand sees in her or how he reconciles all the failings she's sure are just waiting to rear their ugly heads, like some venomous hydra. But he doesn't seem to have figured that out yet, shockingly, so... maybe he won't. ]

Good. You deserve all of the wonderful.

[ "The wonderful?" Is that even a thing? Probably not, so she's going to ignore herself or risk babbling out an apology for saying weird stuff.

She follows along his scalp, taking more time than is probably necessary in order to selfishly bask in his contentment. But the suds in her own hair are starting to dissolve, and she has to pause to use her forearm and push the bubbles back from her forehead – which is her cue to work a bit faster through the lengths of Ferdinand's waves. She's still diligent, mindful not to force her fingers through any knots, but the oil has done its job and whatever tangles might have tried to form simply melt away as Bernie cards through his thick mane.

Finally, his hair seems thoroughly scrubbed, and she gathers it all up again to let it sit in its own haphazard bun at the nape of his neck, held together by the bubbles (until it inevitably tumbles apart, of course). ]

There, all done!

[ She sits back on his thighs again, beaming at him, but instead of just dunking her hands to get rid of the shampoo, she uses some of the gathered-up soap to leave a tiny dollop of bubbles on the tip of Ferdinand's nose. ]

[ The slight tug on his scalp as Bernadetta lightly threads through his hair is far from painful. In fact, it has the opposite effect entirely. His eyes flutter closed, soft hums vibrating between his lips. It really would be nice to out his head on her lap and let her stroke his hair until he fell asleep. The only problem with that right now would be (besides the fact they're in a bathtub) that if his head were to go anywhere near her lap right now, it would likely be to put his lips to good use. But it's definitely something he wants to try at some point, when they can fall asleep together and have all the time in the world.

He's not used to such glowing praise heaped upon him. While Ferdinand von Aegir has never packed an outward confidence, Bernadetta's praise is so sincere, so genuine that he can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. He's spent so long pursuing an ideal version of himself that being told he's perfect, as she so often does, feels unreal.

Once she has his hair completely shampooed, his eyes drift open, and with his head lowered, his gaze falls even lower than her breasts this time. Instead, his gaze lingers to where she sits astride his lap, to where the water barely covers her legs and offers a shimmering glimpse of those soft, gentle thighs. His eyes then wander up her nude body, followed by his hands as they move along her back. His eyes settle on hers, and his hands rest on her shoulders at about the same time. ]

Mm... we should rinse your hair now. When that is done, perhaps I can show you my most sincere appreciation.

[ His hips slowly but pointedly roll upward, the teasing press of his cock against the bottom of her thigh hinting at what he could possibly mean. There's no hiding his arousal, not that he cares to. She deserves to know just how attracted to her he is. She deserves more than that, really— she deserves to be spoiled. ]

[ She always so amazed watching Ferdinand experience... well, her. He looks at every inch of her body like there's something marvelous about it, like all the things Bernie sees in the mirror that make her grimace just don't exist. He maps her out by touch, and the only hesitation she's ever noticed has been for the sake of her comfort.

She's probably going to continue to be awed for a while yet.

Those amber eyes feel darker when they meet her own, and she feels her breath hitch as broad hands settle on the slope of her shoulders. ]

Y-yeah. [ Her voice is just a touch higher, airier. ] I mean, yes, I'd, um, really like that.

[ She can't help squirming against him in return for the slow grind of his hips, the slide of his cock against her skin. Her own arousal is easier to ignore in the moment (or, at least, less noticeable), but she's far from immune to... all of this. ]

[ A cupped hand dips below the water and brings it up to her hair, the gentle trickle washing away some of the soapy bubbles. The other hand, however, remains firmly affixed to her thigh, gently pulling her into the slow, steady rolling of his hips. He doesn't know how she does it (and chances are that she doesn't know, either), but she always manages to make both his heart and his mind race. Maybe it's how she reacts to even the simplest of his touches, or maybe he's just so hopelessly in love with her that the slightest provocation from her fills him with passion.

It's so utterly exciting. And after everything they've been through, why shouldn't they embrace every opportunity they get to enjoy each other's company?

The hand rinsing out her hair gathers more water, then pours it down the back of her head once more. Little by little, the suds and the leftover bits of oil are washed away. He gazes at her through increasingly heavy eyelids, teeth scraping his lower lip in barely contained desire. ]

Do you think we will even make it out of the bath first?

[ He's genuinely not sure. Even if they do make it out of the water, they might not make it very far. Saints help him, if they weren't busy with each other's hair, he would have already slid a hand beneath the water to touch her properly. ]

[ It's hard to focus on how soothing it is to have Ferdinand rinsing her hair, purely because the motion of their hips sends sparks of want radiating through her body, all emanating from one focal point between her thighs. Her hands return to their absent trailing over his chest, frenetic little designs that are as fidgety as the rest of her. She's kept her eyes closed to be mindful of the soap rinsing away, but she peeks out at him, her tongue nervously tracing over her bottom lip. ]

A bed would probably be comfier.

[ Even if the light tremble in her voice gives away how tenuously she's keeping herself in check. ]

... And I keep thinking I'm going to accidentally swallow soap.

[ Whoops, so much for sounding sexy. Bernie's great at this. ]

[ Thankfully for Bernadetta, the lines between sexy and endearingly Bernadetta are quite thin in Ferdinand's mind. He chuckles warmly, the hand on her thigh joining his other hand in rinsing out her hair. ]

Well, we would not want that. Very well... I will simply try to keep you interested until then.

[ The gentle playfulness in his voice makes it clear that he's not worried at all about that. Even if it were to happen, it's not like he's not just as happy cuddling up with her and relaxing as he is putting his hands all over her.

For now, he focuses on distributing the water throughout her hair. But that constant reminder of his interest remains pressed against her, the length of its shaft brushing against her thigh and its crown brushing against the soft curve of her bottom. ]

[ For all that she frets over swallowing a mouthful of soap, dedication to getting the shampoo from Bernie's hair doesn't distract her from the very pressing key point here, which is Ferdinand. Ferdinand, still washing her hair and tantalizingly hard, and it takes every ounce of willpower for her not to just reach down for herself to show him exactly how interested she is. ]

I could have to wait for hours and I'd still want you.

[ Which is painfully honest, even in the face of what she knows was teasing.

She gives her soaking hair a little shake, reaching up to touch a lock of her bangs. ]

Is it clean yet?

[ Thankfully for Bernadetta, Ferdinand may be patient, but he's not nearly patient enough to make her wait for hours if he can help it. But he appreciates the sentiment. The life of a noble, of a Prime Minister, is bound to be busy more often than not. It comforts him to know that she'll always wait for him... even if he wants to make sure he never keeps her waiting for long.

He carefully rinses and wrings the last vestiges of shampoo from her hair and nods with a smile, though his fingers linger in her hair for a while. It's even softer than normal right now, probably because of the oil that it's absorbed. ]

Yes, you are all done. I take it that means it is my turn?

[ He slouches again for her, hands slowly falling from her hair to settle at her waist. His gaze wanders down the entire length of her body, and as his eyes reach where the soapy surface of the water obscures the rest of her form, he can't help but visualize how it would look if she were to simply take him in while they're in this position and ride him for as long as their bodies could last.

Something to file away for another day, when they both have decided they're ready for that. But he certainly doesn't mind imagining it. ]

Yep!

[ If not for other preoccupations, Bernadetta probably wouldn’t have been the least bit bothered by letting Ferdinand continue to play with her hair. (She might, however, eventually start to feel self-conscious, because a life spent being told she’s a waste of space does lend to a sense of greediness by accepting even such basic affection.) But with her hair now finished and Ferdinand’s awaiting her attention, how can she spend any longer not tending to him?

Returning the favor is a bit more of a commitment, considering the sheer volume of his hair, but it’s not a commitment Bernadetta minds making. She has to sit up and adjust to their height difference, but she compensates pretty well by running water over his sudsy locks, smoothing away the leftover oil as she goes.

She focuses on her task with her patented Bernadetta Intensity, fortunately with the benefit of having something less to distract her between her legs (even if Ferdinand is his own brand of distraction). She wrings some of the heavier water from the bulk of his ridiculous mane, then sits back to admire her work. ]

And now you’re squeaky clean.

[ Bernadetta's attentiveness does not go unappreciated, and Ferdinand finds himself impressed by just how thorough she is. Then again, she's always been the sort of person to go to great lengths when taking care of other people despite not really being comfortable around them most of the time. It makes sense that when it's just the two of them, she'd go to even greater lengths.

He shakes out his hair a bit once she finishes wringing it out, then tosses his head back. The hair falls into a slightly messier version of how he normally keeps it, a few of the longer strands hanging in front of his face. ]

Ah, yes. I suppose that means we should get out of the water, then.

[ As impressive as it might be if he were to simply stand up and lift her along with him, that might be a little difficult, and he'd hate to drop her. So, he reaches for the chain holding the stopper in the drain and pulls it, causing the water to start receding.

He doesn't quite let go of her, though he makes no attempt to keep her on his lap. He's simply enjoying her presence there for as long as she'll allow him... though some part of him does feel like he'll be terribly exposed without her on his lap. It's a silly thought, he realizes— they've been naked together quite a few times, and she's always enjoyed it— but he can't quite help it. ]

[ Bernadetta finds herself struck by how endearing Ferdinand is when he's shaking his hair out like that, looking like nothing short of a happy dog shaking off after a dip in the lake. (Maybe that's something she should keep to herself, she realizes; most men might not appreciate that canine comparison.) ]

You're probably right.

[ Her agreement is easy, but she makes no immediate moves to climb out of Ferdinand's lap. The water starts to swirl away down the drain, taking the bubbles and remnants of oil with it, and as the warm cover disappears, Bernie realizes that the bathroom itself is chilly. The obvious solution is to climb out and grab a towel, but rather than make any immediate move to part from Ferdinand, she presses flush against his chest, the soft swell of her breasts trapped between them.

She blinks big (only somewhat) innocent eyes at him as her arms slide around his neck, under that curtain of wet hair. ]

It's cold, Ferdinand.

[ Which is probably all the more obvious by the hard, tightened buds of her nipples. ]

[ As the water circles the drain, taking the last of the suds along with it, he likewise finds that the air of the bathroom is uncomfortably cool. The warmth of Bernadetta on his lap helps significantly, but the places where she's not touching him feel woefully chilly by comparison. He has half a mind to grab one of their towels and pull it over the edge of the tub to make a makeshift blanket, but they can't simply stay in the tub all day.

Like she said: a bed would be comfier.

But she presses close, and that makes it difficult for him to move. No, it makes it difficult for him to want to move. He steals a glance between their bodies to where those soft, plush breasts are compressed against his chest, and almost as if it were an involuntary response, his hips roll slowly beneath her, the length of his erection rubbing lightly against her bottom. ]

Then I will keep you warm.

[ His arms wrap around her body, covering as much of her back as he can with his forearms and keeping her held close. At the same time, he tilts his head to one side and closes what little distance is left between them, and his lips meet hers rather insistently. His mouth opens without any hesitation whatsoever, and the tip of a tongue slides outward to swipe across her lower lip.

What does kissing her have to do with keeping her warm? Nothing, but he's going to do it anyway. ]

[ Bernadetta's own response is just as involuntary, though it comes far more in the moan that's lost in their kiss. She's been thrumming with a low-simmering excitement since they climbed into the tub together, just by the very nature of being that close to Ferdinand. He's tall and handsome and strong and kind, and sitting in his lap, completely naked? That's like a dream come true.

A really filthy dream, but a dream nonetheless.

She melts freely into his embrace, genuinely fairly comfortable for how much he manages to envelope her to protect against the cold. Her thighs and her rear are a little chilly, but depending on how much she squirms against him, that might change. Squirming, however, is less of a priority than investigating that little spot she'd noticed while they were kissing earlier.

Along the lower edge, just off of center. She traces it with the tip of her tongue when they draw apart in the midst of that press-and-pull of their kiss, catching a whisp of breath. ]

[ Get to a bed. It would be more comfortable. At least get out of the tub. The logical part of Ferdinand's brain tells him these things, but logic has stopped factoring into any of his decisions. The only thing in the world that matters right now is sitting naked on his lap.

Those passions are only further enflamed when her tongue finds that ticklish patch of soft skin, sending a shiver down his spine. It doesn't take the logical part of his brain to figure out that she remembered how he reacted when she teased that same spot earlier. She clearly knows exactly what reaction she's going to get.

It feels like a challenge, and he can't let it go unanswered.

One of his hands ventures downward, curling over the soft curve of her bottom. He even allows himself a squeeze, her skin dimpling slightly where his fingers grope at her. In that breathless space between their lips, he murmurs a simple suggestion, his voice so low and hungry that it almost sounds like a growl. ]

Hold on tight.

[ And with that, he rocks forward onto his knees, the hand on her back keeping her held tight against him. If her legs and arms are still wrapped tightly around him, she'll find herself held securely aloft by his eagerly groping hand and the arm that he has wrapped firmly around her torso. She weighs very little, and he has years' worth of experience wearing heavy armor and training his muscles. There's not even the slightest chance he'd drop her like this.

It occurs to him that it would be even better if, rather than prodding out beneath her rear, his cock were angled upward between their bodies. They could grind so wonderfully against one another like that. Perhaps they can do that once he gets her to a bed. ]

[ Bernie probably could have been content to continue the kissing in the tub for a while longer – even if she knows they need to move, and beneath the flaming reminder of her achey need, she even wants to relocate. She also wasn't entirely sure what reaction she'd earn from a more pointed and intentional teasing across Ferdinand's lip, and she'd have been more than happy to be rewarded with the shiver and heavy petting.

The growl is better.

There may be plenty of times that Bernadetta is wildly clumsy, but when her reflexes need precision, her body responds on instinct before conscious thought. He tells her to hold on and her muscles brace for the sudden shift without hesitation. Her arms lock around his neck, her legs curled around his waist, and when Ferdinand stands, he takes Bernie with him like some oversized, clingy marsupial. She doesn't so much as budge an inch.

She does, however, squeak as soon as they're moving. ]

Ferdinand!

[ The gasp of his name is some mix of startled and wildly turned on by the show of strength. ]

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breaks in this icon

i might need to get some commissioned at this rate 👀

👀👀👀👀👀

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i cannot get over aegir hound ferdie, it's too precious for this world

he does have that big golden retriever energy

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