You were a person of many talents, but the one thing you could never conquer was the act of lying. That was why you prided yourself on being as honest as possible, but there came certain times where you had to give lying a try no matter how bad you were at it.
“Good morning, everyone…” You hummed as you made your way down the stairs to see the dining room table already set up with place mats and dishes. Y/F/N had planned a brunch for the gang but unfortunately forgot to pay her gas bill so she had no way of cooking - Which explained why everyone was at your place instead. On a typical Sunday, you liked to sleep in and laze about all day, so the idea of waking up for a brunch wasn’t exactly making you go crazy. At least you were getting to eat free food.
“There you are, lazy. Was wondering when you’d finally come down.” Y/F/N walked out with a stack of pancakes before setting them down on the table and wiping her hands on her apron. “Go on and take a seat. Your place is right across from Harry.” She pointed to the name card sitting neatly on your plate.
“Why can’t I sit next to you instead?”
It wasn’t like you hated Harry. Even though he was a dick to you and called you names and poked fun at you whenever he had the chance, you didn’t hate hatehim. …What were you saying? Of course you hated him! You never knew why everyone thought he was so charming and sweet - He was a prick and you would give anything in the world to kick him right where the sun didn’t shine. With that being said… how exactly did you end up hooking up with him last night?
The details were blurry, but you remembered the gist of it. You remembered the feeling of his body pushing you up against your own front door. You remembered the feeling of his hands sliding down your back as he unzipped your dress. You remembered the feeling of his lips pressed against your neck while he thrust-
“Because I spent a whole lotta time making those name cards, so you’re sitting where your name is placed.” You huffed when Y/F/N gestured to the seat again before you stomped over and plopped yourself down. You had kicked Harry out this morning after discovering him snoozing away next to you, (and you had forgotten there was a brunch happening) so seeing him literally an hour after you kicked him out was a tiny bit awkward. It would be fine! You just had to deal with him for a couple hours and then he’d be out of your hair.
“Woah, what happened to you?” Liam asked, leaning forward a little to look at your neck.
“What are you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, instinctively reaching up to brush your fingers over your neck.
“Someone got a little frisky last night, it looks like.” Harry cut in, your eyes flickering up to his. Immediately, your face scrunched into a small frown at the sight of his cocky smirk. “I wonder with who, though?” He hummed, raising his bottle to take a sip of water. “I’m sure you had a great time considering the number of hickeys he gave yeh. Are you sore too? You looked like you had trouble coming down the stairs.” This was why you didn’t want to ever get involved with Harry, but of course, drunk Y/N just had to take him home with her. He was usually cocky, but because he knew your guys’ night was well spent, he was ten times cockier.
“I don’t remember his name. I do remember the sex was sloppy and only lasted three minutes. Not to mention, his mouth was like a bloody hoover. By the time he got in me, he practically turned into a jackhammer. Worst sex of my life.” You shrugged, glancing over at Harry to gage his reaction. His face had gone red and he looked like he wanted to murder you. You were lying, obviously, because the sex was amazing. But you’d never let him know that.
“Ooh, yikes. That sucks. At least it’s over now, right?” Niall snorted, grimacing slightly. “What’s the matter wit’ you, Harry? You’ve gone all red.”
“The sex was great and you know it!” Harry blurted out, your eyes widening slightly when the whole room went quiet. Well, there went your chance of hoping nobody would find out you hooked up with Harry. You had no choice but to own it. Yes, you had sex with Harry. Yes, it was great. But again - You’d never let him know that, for fear that his head would explode if you added to his already giant ego.
You rose an eyebrow at the chorus of voices that hit your ears as you entered the bar, and sighed when you recognized the faces.
Not again, You purposefully maneuvered away from them, going by the counter. Its not that you didn’t like the four idiots, you did, but it was just that you had no time nor patience to deal with them at the moment. The whole reason you had skipped the reception in the first place, was because you had found yourself becoming quickly overwhelmed.
Even among-st girls, Angelica sure knew how to party.
You chuckled nervously at the memory of the flamboyant Schuyler (and Eliza who surprisingly got quite frisky the moment she got even a little alcohol in her system).
So yeah, it wasn’t a good idea to let them see you. Especially since it looked like they were dead ass drunk. They were bad enough normally, you didn’t even want to try to handle them while they were off their rocker.
You lifted your head to peer at the bartender, who had a warm smile. You nodded, and the man blinked at your weary state.
“Rough night?” He asked. You looked not too subtly in the way of the notorious gang, and he gave you an expression of empathy. “Ah, I see.”
“Hamilton’s hitched,” you clarified. The bartender snickered.
“I know. The whole place does,” He said, returning with your drink. You shrugged laughing along with him and taking a tentative sip before deciding to just chug the whole thing down.
Right when you were contemplating getting another round and joining the party of intoxicated laid-backs, a hand tapped your shoulder. You turned to see the face of none other than Hercules Mulligan himself.
“Y/L/N” He started, scratching the back of his neck with a crooked white smile. He looked to be still tipsy, but way more cognitive than he had been when you spotted the quartet earlier.
“Please, Mulligan, you can call me Y/N,” You returned the smile, giving him your full attention.
“Well then, right back at you, Y/N.”
“As you say, Hercules,” You taunted back. He chuckled deeply.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I require your assistance,” He began. You gave him a look of confusion, and he gestured to his arm.
When you looked properly, you saw that he was practically carrying Lafayette like he weighed a bag of feathers. While Hercules had regained his wits, the french man clearly had not, and was still properly bamboozled.
“Monsieur Lafayette cannot hold his liquor?” You questioned in amusement. Hercules shared your sentiment.
“On the contrary, he is actually quite impressive in that regard. But alas, he had way more than any of us.”
You grinned but it wavered when you saw his suggestive gaze. “Wait…what exactly are you asking me to do here?”
“Please Y/N?” He couldn’t restrain his laugh. “John ran off somewhere, and I need to track him down so that he doesn’t jump in the lake.”
“Why can’t Hamilton do it?” You stalled.
“Hamilton went off somewhere with Burr,” Hercules confirmed. You opened your mouth to make another excuse but a look from the tall man had you shutting up.
You groaned, putting your palm to your face. “I’m going to regret this.”
“Thank you Y/N,” Hercules was more than willing to hand over the drunk man to you, and you nearly fell over to hold him up.
“You’re-” You barely started but he was already out the doors. “…welcome.”
You huffed, focusing now on the immigrant nearly drooling on your shoulder.
“Lets go,” You shook him slightly, enough to get him able to walk with you as you hung his arm around your neck.
“Hmm..?” He asked drowsily, a rumble vibrating through his chest and straight through you. “Where…?”
His voice was hoarse from the recent wake up and you would vehemently deny that it had goosebumps rising up your arms.
“Home,” You said, absentmindedly watching the stars as the two of you hobbled down the empty street.
“Home…?” He repeated. “You…would have a…ship at the ready?”
You snorted. Even completely wasted, he didn’t fail to have you in fits of laughter.
“Not France, Lafayette,” You mused. “Though I think I would like to visit.”
“Anytime…” He opened his eyes blearily, seeming to want to see you. When he saw your face he seemed a bit surprised, but got over it. “Y/N…”
Your name rolling off his lips made you weirdly content.
“You would escort me, Monsieur?” You were enjoying somewhat flirting with the man, knowing he wouldn’t remember a single word.
“Anything for you,” He responded. You paused. That sounded a little too sincere. You peeked a glance to see if he had cleared his mind from the alcoholic fog, but his face was still flushed. Guess not.
“Its a date then,” You said.
“Date…? Yes…a date,” He murmured by your ear, breath washing over you, a distinct smell of sweet whiskey. You were already getting flustered by the proximity, but when his lips pressed to your neck you lost your crap.
“What are you doing?” The words were rushed, your voice a pitch higher.
“Tu es si belle.”
“Vous frappez, madame. Restez avec moi.”
The only thing that followed was a babble of french that you in no way could translate. The sultry flow of the romantic language by your ear was again getting too much for you. You were sure your face would burn off in no time.
That seemed to knock him out of his daze, but he still continued to speak in French, with a few random English words in-between. You suddenly noticed the confused expression set on his face and realized he quite seriously couldn’t remember the language at the moment in his state.
You let him off the hook for the intrusion of your personal space just because of that, and giggled quietly to yourself as you walked up to his door.
You fished around in his coat for his keys, and gave a small ‘aha’ when you found them in an inner pocket. The door clicked open.
“Here we are,” You said. A strike of sympathy struck within you with another look at Lafayette’s disheveled state.
It wouldn’t kill you to bring him to his room would it? You took the small journey with a pep in your step.
“Time to go to bed, Lafayette,” You spoke to him as if he was a child, patting his shoulder. He hummed.
You made to let him go but stopped breathing when the roles changed as he clamped his arms around your waist and dragged you down to the mattress with him.
“MMpH..!” You thrashed, face pressed into his chest, your bodies practically glued together. A heat ravaged your cheeks when you registered this, his toned body outlined underneath his clothes, the scruff on his jaw brushing against your cheek. You finally managed to disconnect from him enough to speak.
“Let go!” You whispered harshly. Lafayette stirred, opening his eyes. The two of you stared at each other before an odd glint entered Lafayette’s chocolate eyes.
“Laf-” You started.
“Stay,” He said shortly, more of a question than a demand. His eyes looked too clear, too soft for someone who was drunk.
You got lost in his gaze, your faces so close now that you could count every brown eyelash, the curls escaping his ponytail, framing his captivating features.
Everything was shouting at you to say no, to get the hell out of there, but then his lip quirked upward and you were melting.
His head buried in your neck, your legs intertwined as the soft sounds of his breathing filled the quiet air.
And the dull beat of his heart lulled you to join him in the land of the subconscious not long after.
“OH MON DIEU!”
You frowned at the noise, wondering who had the heart of stone to do this to you so early in the morning. Opening your eyes, you watched Lafayette in blurry perplexity until the memories of the night before came back to you and just sighed, rolling back over.
“Go back to sleep, Lafayette.”
“Back to-?!” He was utterly befuddled, wincing at the sound of his own voice, nursing a hangover. Another round of french escaped his lips before he caught himself.
“Mon cher, what are you doing in my bed??!!”
“So you don’t remember last night?” You mulled, taking great satisfaction in making him freak out even more.
“Last night?!!” He sputtered, a complete mess of ruffled clothes, bed hair and tangled sheets. “What did I - did we - how did-”
You snuggled into the warm sheets, snickering. “Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything.”
A breath of relief left his lungs. “Oh merci bien.”
You hummed casually. “I mean, you haven’t even taken me on that date to France yet.”
You swear you had no idea the male human voice could go that high before. “Date??”
A thump alerted you to the fact that he had fallen out of the bed and onto the floor.
You yawned, raising your hand limply above your head to point at the ceiling. Where to start?
Suzanne- no… STEPHANIE!
Frogeyes- Frogboy- Froobert… I don’t know what his fucking name is… Peter! No, Stingy!
Pugsley! Pigface! He’s got little eyes… he’s blond.
Frisky? Pigtails… Trixie?
The old woman. Maxine or summat she’s called. Ethel? No it’s… BESSIE!
I would love it if the first episode Barry was back there was this weirdness and tension between him and Iris, like they just don’t know how to be around each other. That tension where they’re constantly looking at each other but they can’t maintain eye contact. Or they touch each other timidly because it’s been so long and they’re not comfortable with each other’s bodies like they used to be.
I want to see Barry looking at Iris with wonder in his eyes as he watches her take charge at STAR Labs. I want to see him compliment her on her beautiful her new haircut looks and how well it suits her and for her to shrug shyly and say, “I needed a change.”
I want to see Iris diving headfirst into her work, regardless to the fact that Barry is back. I want to see her be headstrong and gutsy and not willing to back down once things get dangerous.
I want to see Barry worried about her and maybe even see them butt heads a little bit until he realizes that there is no use arguing with her and as the saying goes, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I want to see them working on solving a case together–her with her journalistic skills and him with his CSI skills–while Wally handles fighting the meta of the week. I would love it even more if that investigation took them to another city, such as Starling City, and while they were there they got at little frisky seeing as though things are TV-14 around those parts.
And lastly, I want to see wedding planning, or dress and tux fittings, or something showing them preparing for their wedding. Extra points if they show bachelor/bachelorette parties. I want to see Barry and Iris scared, anxious, worried, terrified, happy, nervous, elated, stupid in love and about a million other emotions as they prepare to get married. I want sappy vows and even sappier speeches from those that love them. I want to see Joe 'The Original Westallen Shipper’ finally see his favorite ship get their happy ending. And I want to see Barry and Iris dancing their first dance with hearts in their eyes as they sing 'Running Home to You’ to each other.
She told me I’m too goody-goody in the bedroom. Most of the time she wants a gentleman but once in a blue moon she’s in the mood for something else.
“I want you to hurt and humiliate me and we’ll have fun!” were her exact words. She elaborated with a list of things like dog collars and horse whips but my fantasies were headed in a different direction.
I came up with a naughty plan but didn’t tell her the whole thing at once. I said we’d carry on like it was a normal day but she had to follow my rules. She didn’t know where things were going but she was ready to play along.
I told her to change into something nice with a short skirt and we’d go out.
“The first rule is you have to swallow anything I tell you to.” I demonstrated by taking out a juice box and inserting the straw between her shapely smiling lips. “You can nullify this and all other rules by telling me the safeword,” I added as she sucked on fruit juice.
She took the straw out of her mouth long enough to ask one question. “Do you pick it or do I?”
She choked with laughter when I said the safeword was “burst.”
We needed groceries so that was the first thing we did. I promised her things would get more interesting. She was perky and optimistic.
When we carried the bags to the car I made her stop to perform a favor. I took a water bottle out of the plastic and pointed it at her mouth.
She looked annoyed but unscrewed the cap and started drinking.
“Faster!” I said. I got a kick out of watching the muscles in her neck work as she glugged it down. When she finished she was struck with a look of embarrassment. Some people were staring at us.
“Another!” I commanded. I was gonna make sure more people stared. “Drink this one like you’re dying of thirst.” I took off the cap and physically stuck the neck of the bottle into her face. She drew back a bit then eagerly wrapped her lips around the plastic. She made exaggerated sounds of quenched thirst as she drank the water so quickly and sloppily that some of it ran down her neck and made her top wet.
“Good girl!” We continued to the van.
At home she started walking to the bathroom before the groceries were put away. I grabbed her wrist.
“Uh-uh-uh!” I scolded. “That’s the second rule. No going to the bathroom without asking me for permission.”
“Can I have permission?”
After we’d put away the groceries she asked again.
“No,” I answered again.
“How do I get permission?”
“You’ll find out.”
She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss.
“Good girl! You can’t go to the bathroom though.”
Her enthusiasm was waning but she perked up again when I said we should go on a romantic picnic. She wasn’t hungry yet so I suggested we take a long walk to work up an appetite.
I used the bathroom before we left. She just stood outside the door with her arms crossed.
We selected a picnic site and packed everything up and took to the bike trail. I spotted the bathrooms before she did.
“I know what you want,” I said and I motioned to the silhouette of the woman in the dress.
“Yes I want it,” she said.
“Do you really need to?”
“Then you need to ask.”
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
“That’s poor grammar.”
“May I go to the bathroom?”
“Still not right.”
“May I please have permission to go to the bathroom?”
“No.” I had something else in mind. I took hold of her hand and led her to the drinking fountain. She started to struggle when she noticed where we were headed. “You have to swallow,” I reminded.
“That’s the rule. If you’re sick of funny rules you know what to say.”
“No I won’t use the safeword. I want to see how this plays out even if it’s no good.”
Once she relented I was able to bend her knees and press her head down to where her mouth could receive the stream of water. I turned the knob and made sure she got a nice long drink.
“People are looking,” she whispered accusingly when I released her. She used her wrist to wipe away the water that was running down her chin. “They think you’re hurting me or something.”
“Then explain it,” I whispered back. “Try to sound frisky.”
“Don’t mind us,” she said to the elderly couple who were walking by. “We’re just playing.”
“That was nice,” I said. “You got the flirtatious sound without laying the sexiness on too thick.”
“Now may I have permission?”
Before long we were at the picnic spot. We were both pretty hungry by then but she had a more urgent need. I could tell by the way she was skipping and hopping around as we set down the blanket and got the food ready.
“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom?”
“I’ll tell you later. Try not to ask so often.”
“It’s hard not to!”
“Don’t get testy.”
We sat on the blanket. She fidgeted a little but got comfortable and seemed to forget her need. We had a nice dinner and didn’t talk about bathrooms. I was sure to remind her before we packed up.
“Do you want more to drink?”
“But you’ll drink it anyway. Watch while I pour.”
She snapped her legs together and shuddered as she watched the thin stream of yellow liquid slowly flow into the clear plastic cup.
“Those are such nice liquid sounds,” I teased. “Wouldn’t it be great to hear that happening under you while that shapely bottom of yours was perched on the comfortable horseshoe seat of a public toilet?”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked in a desperate tone. “I’ll do anything. Not literally anything but…” she trailed off as she shifted into a different sitting position.
“I won’t let you use the bathroom here but you may use the one at home.”
“That’s a long walk,” she complained as she uneasily stood up.
“What’s the matter? Think you’ll have an accident?”
“Did you already have an accident?”
“Why don’t I check?” I only brushed her leg but she jerked away forcefully.
“No!” she repeated in a more playful way.
“I bet the seat of your panties is all wet.”
“Then show me.”
We ran around a bit and once more attracted attention to ourselves. I brought the chase to a stop by saying “I can make you drink the rest of the lemonade.”
“No! There’s most of a liter bottle left!”
“Show me your panties or I’ll make you swallow every drop.”
She spun around and flipped up her skirt and her white cotton underwear caught the bright summer sunlight.
When the skirt fell and she stood up straight again she noticed a woman with two little kids was looking at us wide-eyed.
“Sorry! I got a little too frisky.”
“Good girl!” I said to my red-faced sweetheart.
“This is no good!” she said in a not so frisky voice as we were walking back home.
“What did you want?”
“That’s what this is.”
“This isn’t what I asked for.”
“You asked me to hurt you.”
“Well doesn’t it hurt?” I asked as I motioned to her crotch.
“Yes but that’s not it.”
“You also asked me to humiliate you.”
“But aren’t you humiliated? You’ve made a few scenes in public.”
“Yes but it’s not kinky.”
“I think it is. I’ll tell you one thing I’m having fun.” That was about when we passed the other set of bathrooms.
“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom? Flash my panties again?”
“If we go over into the woods I’ll flash my breasts.”
“I still won’t let you use that bathroom.”
“I’ll flash everything! I’ll take off my panties. I’ll bend over a tree trunk. You can go to town! Just please let my go to the bathroom!” She accentuated the end of the sentence by stamping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. It was a natural motion because her legs had been jumping and dancing around a lot lately.
“You’ll use the bathroom at home.”
“That’s such a long way to walk!”
“We’ll take a shortcut.”
The shortcut took us to a babbling brook.
“You jerk! You’re doing this on purpose!”
“Where’s the bridge?”
“We can step over this creek.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“Just a hop.”
“I don’t think I can do it.” Her legs were plastered together and she was rocking from side to side.
“Then I know what to do.” I put the bags down and walked to her.
“What are…” she stopped saying words and let out a shrill squeal instead as I hoisted her up off the ground.
“Are you all right?” I asked the woman in my arms.
“Yes! Just carry me across the creek already!”
I did and then I crossed over again and back for the bags. She had her hands over her ears.
“Can’t stand the sound of flowing water?” I asked as I took her hands by the wrists.
“You’re touching me so much today,” she said. I was starting to feel like I’d gone too far but then she took my hands and pulled me close to her. “Don’t stop.” I could feel her squirm uncomfortably as we hugged.
“It’s not that far to get home,” I said. “I’ll race you! We’ll each take one bag and if you get home before me the rules are all null and void.”
“If you get home before me?”
“Then you’ll need permission to enter the house.”
She didn’t stop to think about it. She just ran. I’ve never seen those legs work so hard. But my legs are longer and stronger. I was waiting on the back porch as she trotted up panting and shaking.
“You must be parched. Have some more lemonade.”
She didn’t fight it but she wouldn’t put her hands on the bottle. I fed her like a baby as she laid on her side.
“That’s enough,” she said after swallowing about a quart and standing up.
“No it’s not!” I grabbed her around the waist and made her sit on my lap on the steps.
“If I have an accident it’s gonna go on you,” she pointed out.
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I said as I inserted the neck of the bottle into her mouth.
This time she was the one who noticed we were being watched. As I lowered the empty bottle she hollered “We’re just being lovey-dovey!” to our neighbors across the street.
“May I use the bathroom in the house?”
“How do I earn permission?”
“Keep being lovey-dovey.”
I sat on the porch swing and invited her to take a seat next to me. She sat down and leaned over and practically melted to my body. She kissed me all over my head and neck and ran her arms up and down my body. I’ve never seen (or felt) her so lively before. Her legs were kicking in the air.
“Good girl!” I said when she slowed down and put one hand between her legs. “You have permission to enter the bathroom.”
She shrieked in delight.
“You may use the toilet once you perform one final act.”
“No! What? Oh whatever let’s just go inside.” She ran in place as I took out my keys and unlocked the door. She ran to the bathroom and waited inside. She had an urgent look in her eyes as she stared at the toilet without a word.
“What do I have to do?” she asked as I came in with some old towels. I covered the floor in case of an accident.
“You can use the toilet after I do.”
“But you have to watch. Get down on your hands and knees. There’s a good girl.”
She was on one side of the toilet staring at the bowl she desperately wished she was on top of. I stood on the other side. I felt a little silly about what I’d planned but I still followed through. I unzipped my fly and opened the seam in my boxers. The look on her face when I pulled out my manhood assuaged my embarrassment.
“I’ve gone too long without seeing that,” she said.
“The toilet?” I asked with a smile.
“I meant your penis but that’s true too.” She changed her position so she was sitting with her legs crossed and both her hands pressed between her thighs. “I’ve got a feeling between my legs that’s killing me and I don’t know how much of that is one thing and how much is the other.”
“I’m not just saying that you know.”
“Get back in your stance. Your legs have to be apart and your hands have to be on the floor.” She obeyed.
“Good girl,” I said again as I began relieving myself. I’d had a long wait too. I didn’t mean to make a sound but I exhaled loudly as the pressure in my bladder dropped.
I heard other sounds that weren’t coming from me. My lover squeaked and then whimpered softly. Those sad longing eyes were focused on the jet of liquid I was emitting with such pleasure. It hissed against the side of the bowl and made deep rumbling liquid noises as it turned the water yellow and foamy.
I managed to stop moaning but she started. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she let out this long pained sound. All four of her limbs trembled. My stream kept going strong. She had a while to wait.
“You can always say it” I reminded.
“I’ve waited too long to quit,” she said in a voice somewhere between a sob and a whimper. “Keep going.”
I did and boy did it feel good. It was just winding down when she made me jump.
“It’s coming out!” she screamed. There were a few drops on the towel below.
I was so startled I lost control of my direction and made some drops of my own. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face.
“Good girl! Still in position.” My bladder had attained a comfortable feeling of near-emptiness so I cut off my stream. “You’re such a good girl you have permission to pee in the toilet!”
Before the sentence was over she was sliding her panties down her thighs. There was a dark yellow spot shaped like a figure eight but the rest of the cotton was white and dry. I offered my hand and she took it. I pulled her off the floor as she glued her thighs back together and thrust her other hand in for good measure.
A golden drop was hanging off one of her knees at the end of a long liquid trail. More spots had appeared on the towel and new ones were showing up by the second. When she neared a standing position I saw two more drops slide down from behind her hand. The flesh was white she was applying so much pressure but something was still leaking through.
Between her efforts and mine we managed to get that pert little bottom of hers onto the toilet seat. I put my penis away and zipped up.
She moaned again and the volume and feeling were now multiplied by ten. But even the pleasureful sounds coming out of her lungs couldn’t muffle the liquid sounds coming out of her bladder. She went at that toilet bowl like a sandblaster. The hissing was intense. So was the roar of the urine rushing into the toilet water. It was like the rapids of a wild river.
Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She had an expression of utter pleasure that I’ve never seen on her face. Not in such good lighting at least.
Once her moaning abated she opened her eyes and noticed the extreme interest I was taking in her body and the liquid flowing from it. She spread her legs wide and scooted back so I could take in the view. I’ve fired urine off that forcefully a few times in my life but I never thought I’d see that kind of pressure from a woman. It was like a raging golden waterfall.
“Oh God! I thought my bladder was going to burst inside me!” she said as her stream slowed. I was staring at our combined output. I’ve never seen toilet water so yellow.
“Thanks for not saying ‘burst’ before we were done. I’m sorry I made you suffer for my gratification.”
“Are you kidding? I loved every minute!”
“I was acting…to some extent. Thanks for the lovely day.”
“It was a lovely day,” I concurred.
“It’ll be a lovely night too if you’re in the mood.”
doesjuminhunzaddyasf says: this drabble idea is fricking GREAT. “If you dont moisturize your boobs you schleep. #SoftTittyClan #GangGangGang” with Wang Jackson please???
LOL “SoftTittyClan” We outchea. - Admin Dayna
Jackson is fond of skinship.
Before it was just a universal fact. However, skinship within your relationship with him was far more notable than he had originally put on. Jackson loves how soft your skin feels. If you two were to ever sit together with your thighs bare, his hands would be on them. Trailing his fingers up and down – nothing suggestive or sexual. It was very innocent. You two hadn’t dated long enough for him to dare to go down that path. Well… at the time.
He’d slither his arms around your shoulder, caressing your arm. He’d hold your hand and trace circles on your palm. He’d tell you your skin felt like satin. Velvet. Silk. He was bound to be on “My Strange Addiction” the way he always found himself touching whatever bare part of your skin he could reach.
Tonight, you two got a little frisky. What started off as teasing turned into rough housing, which eventually escalated to a risqué make out session on the now messy sofa. Jackson left hasty, sloppy kisses along your neck, his hands roaming your velvety skin and making way up your shirt. Heavy breathing, primal growls, and cheeky giggles echoed in the living room as Jackson busied himself with your body. He’d grope your breasts and you’d place a hand over his with encouragement.
Unfortunately the two of you couldn’t get any further. Coco’s little paws pattered against the living room floor, yipping as the little pup made way towards you two – ultimately playing cock block. You pried Jackson’s hands off you to get hold of Coco (Priorities. Pupper over Lover). Jackson sat beside you, watching enviously as you shimmy your shirt back into position, and play with Coco, cooing at him as you ran your fingers through the dog’s white fur.
“What about me, [y/n]?”
“What about you?” You answered in the same baby voice you were using with Coco – your attention hadn’t left the dog.
“You choose Coco over me?”
“Of course!” You cooed again, “Of course I choose Coco over Jackson!” You kiss the dog’s forehead, “isn’t that right, baby?”
“Jagi!” You laughed at your needy boyfriend, putting Youngjae’s and Mark’s dog down before turning your attention to Jackson. Jackson scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your lap, his pointer finger tracing circles out of habit like he usual does. “Your skin is so soft, [y/n].” He’d say in awe, staring down at your lap as his index finger massaged your thigh. You shrug nonchalantly having heard said statement from him so often. “Your entire body is soft…”
“Yeah… I’m pretty generous with my moisturizer.”
“Hmm…” He hummed approvingly.
“Cocoa butter does wonders on the skin.”
“You don’t say?” He’d say, half assed listening.
“Yeah. Makes my boobs super soft, too.” That got Jackson’s attention. His eyes darted upwards at you, somewhat surprised to hear you say that. “Why’d that get your attention, pervert?” You’d laugh.
Jackson dramatically pushed your leg away and huffed, “Go back to Coco!”
8 with kyle/ tate pretty pretty please...i love your writing btw💕😍
Prompt: 8 “One more night.. please.”
Warnings:Hint at smut but that’s it.
A/N: So I did it with Tate because I already did one with Kyle- hope that’s okay.
It was time for me to move on. At least that’s what my parents said. They had told me that after only three years in our current home that it was time we moved on. The two of them were not the type to settle down.
Slowly and apprehensively I made my way up the stairs. My hand absentmindedly traced over the grooves in the wall. I found the dent from where I pushed the wall when Violet jumped out at me when we first moved in. The long vertical scratches from when Tate got a little too frisky. I was going to miss this place.
When I finally made it into the room that had once been Tate’s, then Violet’s, and now mine. When I got in there I closed the door quietly and walked over to my bed. When I sat down and turned around, Tate was standing in his usual spot.
You and Eric
have been together for a few years, however aren’t married. One drunken night
things got a little frisky and you may have forgotten a few things in the midst
of the action, a few weeks later you discovered you were pregnant. You were
scared to tell him at first, solely for the fact that Eric hates kids. A few
nights after you discovered the news, Eric found you crying in the bathroom and
forced you to tell him what was wrong, turns out that he was actually really
excited for the baby.
Tobias had been married for two years, and you had been trying to get pregnant
since you had gotten married, but with no luck, after countless doctor’s
appointments, you check the pregnancy test for what feels like the 100th
time, but for the first time it shocks you; positive!
You walk out of the bathroom, pregnancy stick in hand, and tears of joy
streaming down your face as you make your way to Four who’s sitting in the
living room. He sighs as soon as he sees you crying and tells you that there’s
always next month. You try to tell him but can’t stop crying so you simply
place the test in his hand, upon looking at it, he too lets out a few tears of
joy. You spend the rest of the night cuddling and thinking of baby names.
Peter had just finished initiation, and had started your lives as official Dauntless
members a little over a month ago, and now, now you were pregnant. Of course,
it was an accident, you were stupid teenagers, but the problem now was, how
were stupid teenagers to take care of a child? The day you found out, you
cried, you cried so much that you thought you’d never cry ago, now, a week
later, you’d grown a strange attachment to the small life that was growing
inside you, and you were finally ready to tell Peter, whether he liked it or
not. That day when he came home from leadership training, you sat him down and
told it to him straight, at first he was shocked, hesitant, and scared, but
then even Peter grew a bit excited. You two were just teenagers, but you knew
you had it in you to take care of and love this child.
Uriah had been happily married for 6 months, and now you were pregnant, you
were overjoyed as both you and Uriah loved
children. You decided the best way to tell him would be to get him a gift. You
and Uriah were both Dauntless-borns so you invited both your families over for
dinner and after eating, you brought him the gift. His jaw dropped as he saw
the Best Dad t-shirt, the rest of the
family cheered as Zeke gave Uriah a joyous slap on the back.
out that you were pregnant with your husband Caleb’s child a week before Caleb’s
birthday, it was perfect timing. After his party was over and all the guests
had left, you went up to Caleb with a wrapped gift. He questions you about it
at first because you had already given him a new shirt and tie during the
party, but he finally opens it to find a thick, hard-covered book with the
title Tips for Success: Parenting 101.
Seeing the book brings tears to your eyes as he pulls you in for a passionate
I don’t know why you guys keep freaking out over these pap pics of Gillian. She went on vacation with her boyfriend and got a little frisky. Are you people really that prudish?! I know most of you have done WORSE in public. Hell, the other day I went skinny dipping in a pool that was in a backyard without a fence. Anybody could have just walked up in the dark and saw us (and we weren’t just swimming either). Granted, I’m 23 and supposed to do stupid shit, but that’s not the point! Geez you people need to get off Tumblr and live a little. Sometimes the thrill of getting caught is really fun. I will never judge a woman who is getting laid (especially somebody as gorgeous as Gillian). Maybe she wanted the pictures to get out. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she did but didn’t want it to go this far. Shit happens.
You and Bruce attend a party. When a man tries to get a little frisky with you, Bruce doesn’t have it.
* warning: a little steamy at the end….
The socialised nightlife seemed to be apart of your every weekend. The flashing lights of the paparazzi and the constant consuming of alcoholic beverages that seemed to empty out the wine cellars were frequent. Bruce went to these often, of course having to keep up with the latest new friendships, business deals and new companies that arose in Gotham, to make sure they were no trouble and didn’t need a visit from Batman. He didn’t mind it per-say, only fully enjoying himself when you were around, and even then he always had an eye out for you, feeling a half of him a little cold and lonely when you left for short times. And as for yourself, the only thing you disliked were the constant dilemma of running out of dresses to wear, and the questions of how well you’re marriage to Bruce is.
“It’s great.” You would say, smiling into your glass, drinking the effervescent liquid fast, wishing Bruce was next to you. The old lady smiled, wrinkles painting her face,
“it’s nice to see Bruce settle down.” She said, “, I remember all his other lady friends he would take to these parties. Busy young man he was.” She laughed, placing her hand on your shoulder.
You forced an awkward smile, chuckling very slightly.
“Of course i wonder how things would of turned out if he had stayed with one of them instead,” She continued,
You sculled your drink, placing the empty glass onto a silver tray held by a waiter walking past. You picked another full glass up at the same time, drinking half of it in one go,
“,he did mingle with some very pretty girls,” Her voice was teasing, almost ridiculing.
You didn’t mind Bruce’s past love life, as you had had one too. You would be a hypocrite to complain, as you had had many boyfriends too. The only difference between the two of you was that his were publicized, whilst yours were not.
Your eyes looked behind the woman’s white hair to Bruce, who was talking about Wayne Enterprises with his executive CEO. His eyes grazed briefly towards you. He focused them and gave you a smile, lifting his drink up to you. You smiled, lifting yours to him, sculling the rest of your champagne in front of him, in response to the conversation you were having at the moment. Bruce chuckled to himself, having met the lady you were taking to. They had met at previous parties before, her aways wanting her daughter to wed the handsome Bruce Wayne.
You looked back to the lady. She was still talking. Your eyes tried to concentrate on her, but it failed. She was now just an old distracting blur. A hand was suddenly placed on your upper back. Your head turned, not expecting the sudden contact. It was a man with Blonde slicked back hair, wearing a black suit with a black bowtie. He was slightly shorter than bruce, but he still stood tall in comparison to you. The old lady stopped; taking in his appearance.
“Sorry to interrupt, but may i speak with Mrs. Wayne?” His voice was velvet; oddly charming. You looked at the old lady, she was slightly in dismay,
“Of course..” she said quietly, turning around and slowly walking off.
The man spun you around with his hand to face him, your side now facing Bruce. Your mouth was slightly open, closing when you asked,
“I’m sorry, but, what’s your name?” You ask. His hand gliding to the side of your arm and upper shoulder.
“Apologies,” he said, “My names William.” You nodded. Turning your head slowly to see the old lady walking past Bruce near the bar. You looked back at William, the chandeliers illuminating his face.
“And was there a reason you wanted to talk William?” He grinned.
Bruce had noticed the old white haired lady walk past him. He looked back to where you were before. He saw William placing his hand on your lower back, pushing you into him fast. You let out a breath of air at the sudden contact. He put his hand in yours saying,
“just a dance, Mrs. Wayne.” Bruce stood tall, completely ignoring his executive CEO, all eyes on you.
You fussed your eyebrows together,
“That’s all fine and well,” you began, “but i don’t think we need to be this close.” You said. Your feet moving to the violin melody with his. You tried to separate the two of you, creating some distance. He looked down at you, and whispered warmly into your ear,
“If you wish Mrs. Wayne.” He took a slight step back, no longer touching your body.
“You’re a very pretty woman.” He complimented, “, you’re looking lovely tonight can i just say.” he said. You tightened your lips, trying to hold back a small smile. You shook your head,’
“You’re very complimenting William. Are you just being nice, or do you want something?” He chuckled,
“Can’t a man just dance with a pretty woman?”
“They can,” your reached your hand behind you and removed his hand from your lower back to your upper back, “,but lets keep our hands friendly, yes?”
“if you wish.” he stated, looking into your eyes,
“I am a married woman William,” You remind him. He smiles and leans down into your ear,
“that never stopped anyon-”
“(y/n)!” Bruce said excitedly. A little too enthusiastically you thought.
“I couldn’t find you anywhere for a minute,” Bruce laughed, hooking his hand around your waist and pulling you suddenly into his side. His grip was steel. William stood up tall, straightening his jacket. He huffed a smile,
“Good evening Mr. Wayne.” He said politely. His voice was different to what he’d talked to you with before. It was lighter, peppery, less sloppy and more formal.
“I see you’ve met my wife,” Bruce states, feeling your hand being placed on his back.
Bruce stood taller than William, not by much, but enough to establish the alpha mentality, and show William who you belonged too. Now by all means, you were an independent woman who was strong and capable, even bruce saw that, but like how he was yours; you were his.
“It was good meeting you William.” You say, smiling.
He smiles back. He holds his hand out, and you gladly shake it, but he begins to pull your hands up to his lips, but stops when he see’s Bruce’s eyes stare down into his. He drops your hand, nodding slightly.
“Goodbye William.” Bruce says.
Bruce turns around, you with him. His arm was still hooked to your waist, guiding you fast through the clouds of people. He bumped into them, muttering a quick apology before taking off again. You looked at him, his eyes were unreadable. You two walked down an empty hallway away from the party, only to be jerked roughly by Bruce’s hand as he pulled you into an empty room full of spare tables. You stand in the middle of the room and watch as Bruce gets a chair and places it under the door handle.
“Bruce what are y-”
He pushes you into the wall behind you, his lips fiercely radiating love, desire and lust into your body. His large strong hands glide down your waist, moving to your back to pull you into him. Your back arches into his embrace. He pulls away breathing hard,
“He had-” he kisses you, “- the nerve to-” more kisses trailing your neck, “-try one with you-” Your breathing was heavy, eyes closed head leaning back onto the wall. You ripped off his jacket, his hands briefly leaving your waist and back to take the jacket off, only to re-attach themselves back on greedily.
He looked into your eyes, cupping your face.
“Only I can do that” he stated, “only me.”
You smiled returning to the kiss, hands in his hair. You pulled back, his hands tight around you.
“Show me then”
–well that got a little frisky. Probably the most frisky thing i’ve written. I hoped you like it!
I noticed some people think she might be Allura’s mother
however I think otherwise
you know what she looks like?
So my theory is Zarkon and Haggar got a little frisky frisky
It would also explain why Haggar was also highly obsessed with Zarkons safety other than him being her leader.
Okay. another theory I had I kinda got from some one else’s theory (if you know them, please let me know to credit) where the lions have souls from the old paladins.
So first off my boyfriend helped me a lot with my theory. Because first off in the episode Blackout Haggar steals the quintessence from Voltron. We really do not know what quintessence EXACTLY is, however considering Voltron POWERED DOWN and the paladins low keyed died(if this wasn’t a kids show i assure you the paladins might’ve died at least a little) we can assume that quintessence is life. Their motivation, their will, their LIFE is what made Voltron start back up. So my boyfriend stated that Haggar must’ve sucked out the old paladins souls, and the lions now have the new paladins souls locked on. Which would explain so much, they connected so much with their lions that they didn’t just lock souls with them, they are them. Now another reason why I think the Lions have the souls of the old paladins is because of red lion.
Red lion has the most personality of the rest of said lions(besides black of course) And I think it’s because of the fact the lion requires you to rely on instinct and not just skill alone. The lion’s old paladin seems very protective more so than any other lion. I don’t think Kieth even put that much connection with his lion and yet it seems to be loyal through and through? Obviously it sees more in Kieth than most, but is that because it’s alien technology, or is it because it’s a fellow paladin?
For the OTP thing. 1, 2, 5, 8, 19, 20, 25, 29, 34, 41, 42, and 50!
1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?
Travis is the early bird. Whether it’s something ingrained in him from his past or simply something he enjoys doing, he’s generally up before sunrise. However, depending on the previous night’s activities he could rise later.
2. Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?
Riley is the big spoon while Travis is the small spoon.
5. Who usually has nightmares?
Riley most certainly. Travis generally dreams of nonsense.
8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?
Unless things got a little frisky the night before, both will normally sleep in their undies. Travis will sometimes sleep in the red silk pajama bottoms he has.
19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?
Truth be told, neither really. They’d either say babe or their partner’s name.
20. Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?
Riley would be dominant and Travis submissive…not in the bondage and S&M type of way either as neither are into that.
25. Who wears the other ones clothes?
Neither by choice. Riley will wear Travis’ hat from time to time as he knows how much of a turn on that is for him. Other than that maybe grabbing a shirt or something out of haste for whatever is the only reason one would wear something owned by the other.
29. Who is the better cook?
Although both do cook and love doing so, Travis would probably win this title. He can make a fantastic stew out of practically anything given to him in the wasteland.
34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?
Considering Travis can be quite reckless at times and go running off after something, he would most certainly be the one with the “If lost” shirt with Riley having the “I am” one.
41. Who cries during sad movies?
If the pet in the movie got killed Travis would surely be crying about that. You can blow up a town, burn a family out of their homes, but you kill the dog or cat that’s it…on go the waterworks.
42. Who is the neat freak?
Riley is the neat freak. Granted, Travis is neat more often than not, but there are still times he’ll leave the freshly washed laundry sit on the bed for way too long. Travis is also known for his dislike of washing dishes and he ends up letting those pile up as well.
50. Who is the hopeless romantic?
Even though Travis is a mush and has a strong sense of romance, Riley would certainly take the title of hopeless romantic.
Thanks for sending these and thanks to @zoey-and-dakota for help with some of Riley’s input.
I stumbled out of the club digging through my purse for my phone. Leaning up against the brick as I tried to dial my friend, who was still inside. Tonight it was particularly crowd supposedly due to some famous people being there, but I hadn’t seen anyone that I recognized.
“Y/F/N,” I said into my phone, “Get your ass out here, I’m waiting outside! And if you’ve found a guy he better have a friend that can keep me entertained while you two bang, dammit!”
I hung up and lit a cigarette while I waited. I wasn’t normally a cg smoker but when I drank I did occasionally enjoy a short or two. As I puffed away I started to people watch. There were, of course, overly drunk girls falling over guys who they’d either come or were leaving with, the valets trying to hail taxis so none of said drunk people drove home, and a few people like me just chilling outside, enjoying the cool night air.
I figured I’d better go back in and look from Y/F/N because unless I dragged her out, she’d stay in there all night. I took one last drag before flicking the butt to the ground, making sure to stomp it out before I walked away.
As I dug in my purse for my phone again my body collided with another one, knocking me flat on my ass and spilling most of the contents of my purse.
“Watch where you’re going you big-“ I started rant, until I looked up to see who it was. There standing in front of me, with a concerned look on his face, was Luke Hemmings from 5 Seconds of Summer. All of a sudden, the freakish girl to guy ratio made so much sense.
“Oh, my god! I’m so sorry!” he frantically apologized while trying to help me pick up the rest of my stuff.
“Uhhhh,” I muttered before shaking myself out of my star stuck-ness, “It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.”
I picked up the last of my possessions as he straightened up.
“I’m Luke.” He said with an adorable smile, extending his hand to me.
“I know,” I laughed, “You’re in 5 Seconds of Summer.”
“Oh,” he said with a surprised look on his face, “You know who I am?”
“Derrrr,” I smirked, “I haven’t been living under a rock for the past year! You’re the band that sings the American Apparel Underwear song. “
“Yeah, that’s us!” he exclaimed, a little more excited now.
Before either of us could get another word out, Y/F/N came tripping out of the club, a boy with bright red hair trying to steady her.
“Y/N!” she squealed, letting go of the boy and throwing her arms around my neck, “I’m so glad I found you! This is Michael!”
“Hi,” Michael waved, clearly less inebriated than my friend.
“What’s up, man?” I nodded, trying to keep Y/F/N from falling over in her drunken state.
“And I see you’ve already met Luke!” she slurred, waggling her fingers at Luke and giggling.
“They’re in a band!” she trying to whisper, but it came out in a hushed yell.
“I know who they are, Y/F/N” I nodded.
“And they wanted to show us they’re awesome place!” she said with a smile.
“Oh, did they now?” I smirked, looking back at the two tall boys.
“I had nothing but good intentions.” Michael said, throwing up his hands.
“Uh huh,” I laughed, “don’t worry dude, we’re big girls. We’ve hooked up before. I know how it works.”
“But in all honesty,” he said as he helped me steady my friend, “Do you girls wanna come back to our place?”
I pondered for a minute, and then looked back at Luke.
“I don’t know, do we?” I asked him with a smile.
He looked shocked that I was addressing him at all.
“Well, only if you want to.” He said shyly.
“Alright,” I said hailing a cab, “let’s go before I change my mind.”
The cab ride was fairly quick seeing as they lived not too far from the club. I was expecting a small, messy house but boy was I wrong. When we pulled up I was shocked at how big their house was.
“You live here?” I inquired as I waited for Luke to unlock the door. Y/F/N weren’t too far behind, but trying to suck face and walk up stairs at the same time was proving to be a challenge for them.
“When we’re not on tour or at home, yup!” he said, finally opening the door, letting me in.
“It’s gorgeous!” I said, admiring the pictures on the walls.
“Well, we’re gonna head up stairs!” Y/F/N giggled and waved as they tried to, once again, make out while walking up the stairs.
“Don’t wait up Lukey!” Michael winked.
“Make good choices!” I yelled behind them, “Oh, and Michael?”
They stopped movement long enough for him to turn around and raise an eyebrow.
“Wrap it before you tap it, man!” I laughed.
He laughed, giving me a thumbs up as they continued up the stairs, leaving Luke and I alone.
“So, what do we do now?” he asked.
“Well, that depends,” I smiled as I plopped down on the couch, “Do you wanna get crazy or chill?”
“I’m more into chill to be honest.” He sighed, taking a seat next to me.
“You toke?” I asked nonchalantly.
“You a narc?” he laughed.
“Nah, I’m not like that.” I smiled. I didn’t want him thinking that I only wanted to light up so I could report it back to some sleazy magazine for cash.
“Then yeah. We all do.” He said confidently.
“I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
“If you wanna smoke we have to go outside, house rule.” He said motioning to the sliding glass door.
“I can respect that!” I said, hopping up and bouncing towards the door. I pulled out what, to the naked eye, would’ve looked like an Altiods box from the front of my purse that had a small blue pipe, a lighter and an eighth inside.
“You coming?” I nodded towards the door.
I walked outside onto the patio containing a huge pool and a hot tub, Luke in tow. I sat down at the table, opening the small tin and pulling out the already packed, small glass pipe putting it up to my lips and lighting it. I slowly inhaled, the smoke burning a little as I passed it to Luke along with the lighter.
“So, what do you guys do when you get blazed?” I asked as I exhaled.
I watched as he inhaled, hissing at the same burning sensation that I felt.
“Nothing really,” he said trying to hold in the smoke and talk at the same time, “Sometimes we’ll play video games or watch a movie or swim.”
I giggled as he coughed out a big puff of smoking, handing it back to me.
“Swimming sounds like fun!” I said, now kind of excited. I took a long hit this time, making sure to double inhale. After passing it back I blew out a few rings. I was slowly starting to feel the effects. Everything was a little hazy and I could feel the tingle between my legs that usually happened when I smoked.
“Well,” he said hitting it pretty hard, “we can go if you want. It’s a heated pool, not that it’s cold outside.”
He handed the piece back to me and leaned back in the deck chair, tilting his head back and blowing more smoke upward. I set it down on the table and got up, heading for the edge of the pool. I pulled off my heels and hiked up my dress so it didn’t get wet and dangled my legs in the cool water. He was right when he said it wasn’t cold out, in fact it was a comfortable eighty degrees, perfect for a late night swim.
I laid back on the concrete as Luke sat down next to me, jeans rolled up, mimicking my position. I stared up at the stars, mesmerized by the random twinkling I thought I was seeing. I looked over when I heard him chuckling quietly.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“They’re totally fucking!” he giggled uncontrollably, “listen.”
And sure enough the lovely sounds of sex could be heard from where we were.
“Well,” I said, beginning to laugh as well, “At least they’re having fun!”
He nodded, grinning like a fool at me.
“So,” I laughed, sitting up and cracking my knuckles dramatically, “what do you say to a late night swim?”
“Okay!” he said getting up, “lemme go change. Do you need something to swim in?”
“Nope,” I smirked pulling my dress over my head, leaving me in my bra and panties, “I’m good!”
I wiggled myself over the edge of the pool, plugging my nose as my head went under. I’d been swimming while stoned before, which was a lot easier and more fun than trying to swim drunk let me tell ya. I opened my eyes while I was under, the chlorine stinging them. The lights of the pool were the most hypnotic things I’d ever seen.
When I came up for air I saw Luke kneeling by the edge of the pool.
“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna come back up.” He said, looking a little concerned.
“I know how to swim Luke, I’m a big girl.” I smirked, “Now, are you gonna get in or are you gonna make me swim by myself?”
Without another word he stripped down to his boxers and cannon balled into the pool. When he surfaced, he was much closer to me than before. Even though it was warm I could still feel the heat radiating off of his body.
Before I could say anything, he had me backed up against the edge of the pool, hands on either side of me, his faces inches from mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked innocently. I knew I tended to get a little frisky when I smoked and sometimes it got me in trouble, but he was single, I was single and I’d be damned if Y/F/N was the only one who was gonna get any action tonight.
“Nothing, if you don’t want me to.” he said with a sweet smile, brushing a piece of hair off my face.
“What if I want you to?” I questioned, inching my hands up his chest, resting them on his broad shoulders.
“Then I’d do this,” he half whispered, pulling me in so that his lips were on mine.
Seventeen react to waking up beside you in your bed:
I did this as though you weren’t in a relationship and this was the
first time that this had happened because your request was pretty open. I
hope you don’t mind!
- Mod Sunny
would be pretty okay with it. He might freak out a little initially
(especially if you were in the bed with him) and maybe jump to the
conclusion that you two got a little frisky and did the diddly doo but
after he realised that wasn’t the case, he’d probably just turn around
and go back to sleep.
little fuck would be so into it. When he’d wake up and see your face
he’d immediately start to smile and maybe even play with your hair or
poke at your nose and lips until you eventually woke up.
managed to get you up, he’d laugh at your groggy confused face and for
the rest of the day he’d call you super cheesy things like his ‘Sleepy
Like Jeonghan, he’d probably
smile when he seen you and not panic much over it. He would just stop
to look at you for a bit thinking about how silly you looked with your
hair all messy and your face squished into the pillow.
Once he realised he was staring though, he’d get super embarrassed and cover his face with the blanket.
This guy would be so out of it, you’d be lucky if he even realised that this wasn’t his bed or you were there tbh.
the off chance that he did though, he’d definitely laugh at how
dishevelled you looked and tickle you a little bit. If you didn’t wake
up immediately though, he’d probably take it as a sign that he should go
back to sleep and do just that regardless of whose bed it is.
@NayaRivera: I love being on group
texts with my Glee family. Always makes me smile. @DarrenCriss: @NayaRivera yeah me
too… When I’m in them… [quiet, pathetic sobs to myself] Darren is determined to be in the next
Glee group text. Naturally, he enlists Chris’ help. Text fic. TW:
References to sexting and copious sexual innuendo. 1.8K [AO3]
Darren: Did you know about this Glee
group text situation? Because if so we’re in a fight.