#cortezgoddess

[winewomenwit]

“HEY!”

Alternatively, send me “HEY!” for my muse walking in on yours [getting dressed].

You say “walking in” like it was a mistake, something unintentional, a door creaking open at the wrong time and Dio getting an accidental eyeful, maybe just glancing up from his phone time to be treated to something truly rare.This was not the case.

Dio strolled in fully expecting to come face-to-face with an undressed (or half-dressed, or at the very least intentionally provocatively dressed) Liz Taylor on his bed. He walked through the door ready to be tempted into bed hardly an hour after disembarking from the plane and finding his way back to the Cortez; what took him by surprise--if anything about this situation took him by surprise--was the fact that Liz was pulling her clothes back on.

But her back was to him, at least. He came up behind her and skated a hand around her hip before pulling her back against him, lowering his head to the crook of her neck to breathe in deeply. It was a good thing she was getting re-dressed; he felt like seducing tonight, something he otherwise wouldn’t be allowed to do during his stay per their mutual agreement. Even with her inevitable dismissal of his charm and his best attempts to make it feel like love tonight, he felt like seducing her. (Women like Liz Taylor ought always to be seduced, and charmed, and worked over into coming to bed; classy women always deserved better than a few quick lines and a proposition, in his opinion.)

“Mmmm...did I black-out and miss the party, Miss Taylor?” he teased, setting his unoccupied hand less-than-innocently (yet not entirely deviously) on her thigh.

[thesmileclown]

“Everyone fears their own mortality.”

@cortezgoddess

"I suppose so...but I think I've met a couple of people who embraced their mortality. I know I didn't always cling to my existence. It's hard to fear something when you're counting on it."

[damagedexquisitely-blog]

≋ duh

“Right back at you.”

[lachlanhonestly-blog]

@cortezgoddess answered this ask:

“They’re not excuses. I will finish my sketches. Promise. It’s just...draining.”

[winewomenwit]

“Upsy Daisy”

Send “Upsy Daisy” for my muse’s reaction to being carried bridal style by yours

Well, it could be worse. She could have decided to throw him into a fireman’s carry and trotted off like that. As things stood--at least he could laugh about it this way. And wrap his arms around her shoulders, and flutter his eyelashes oh-so-beguilingly at her. “Why, Miss Taylor, you big strong brute you! And here I swore I would never play Scarlet O’Hara again,” he teased.Really, though, he was delighted. It wasn’t often he got picked up and played with, and it was...interesting, at the least.

[winewomenwit]

Feel that?- Liz

Send "Feel That?" for my muse's reaction to your's slipping their hand down the front and inside of my muse's pants while they are sitting together watching TV.

Dio arches an eyebrow and actually glances around, first at the hand in his pants and then at the woman that hand is attached to. Has he really played it that cheap and easy with her? (Yes.)

He clears his throat and gently tugs her hand up and out of his pants, brushing a kiss over her second knuckles. “While I appreciate the gesture, beautiful, there are some works of art that can’t be improved upon with sex. Even sex with a beautiful woman. And this,” with a nod to the television, which now features a harried and hastily made-up Angela Lansbury, “is one of them.

“If you’re not in the mood for butchery and wordplay...--well. Give me at least to the end of the number, hmmm?, and I’ll make sure it was worth your while.”

[thesmileclown]

@cortezgoddess

“Would it help if I said please?” the man asked, leaning against the bar as he watched Liz moving about behind it, organizing this and that. Perhaps, he was watching her a bit too intently, but the way she moved was making him feel some kind of way. Well, the feeling was more specific than that, but it wasn’t really polite to speak of these kinds of things in public. “It’s not like people are always running through this lobby or nothing, and besides, we’re way up here. Out of sight. It’s plenty private. Besides...you were real sweet to me before, I figured I ought to pay you back for the, I’ll call it hospitality.” 

[winewomenwit]

♡

Send a ♡ to hear how my character would tell your character that they loved them without actually using the word “love.”

Dio shoved his tongue against the side of his cheek and nodded. He…probably deserved that. For something. Gods only knew what, his memory was less than perfect. Things got hazy. Probably he’d said something the last time he’d been in Hell-A.Even so, he took the quarter-full tumbler and raised in a salute to her, already halfway down the bar again. “Salud!”

She raised an eyebrow at him and brought her cigarette back up to her lips; between her pursed mouth and the arm crossed just under her chest, it was far from an encouraging expression. He knocked the full-price drink back and set the tumbler down on the counter, leaning into it and cocking his head at her.

“So. Are we going to get it all out in the open, or are you going to sit back there and be petty for the rest of the evening?”

“I’m not being petty.”

“Then what would you call this?”

She thought for a moment, took a drag from her cigarette–and blew it out with a decisive “Payback.”

“For…?”

“Listen up, hot shot,” she said, snubbing the cigarette out and leaving it in the ashtray. She moved with intent behind the bar, striding to stand opposite him. “I couldn’t care less what you do outside these walls–but when you’re here, you’re mine.” She jabbed a finger into his chest and glared right into his eyes. “And if that’s too much for you, I suggest you find some other fine establishment to start shacking up in.”

Well–the possessiveness was hot. In a very real and probably unhealthy way, even. He lifted his hands up and held them at shoulder-height with the palms toward her. “See what talking does? That boundary’s set now, message received, and I’ll make it a point not to drag any cuties back to the Cortez anymore.”

“That doesn’t make us even,” she pointed out; but she leaned into the bar herself now, and her finger dropped from his chest.

“Thank gods for small favors. Why don’t you come back tonight, I’ll make it up then.”

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, fairly floating away. What a woman; unresolved or otherwise, Dio was all too happy to watch her go; and thanks to the mirror backing of her shelves, Liz got to enjoy watching his enjoyment, and put a little extra pop in her hips just for him.