thats a hotel room

anonymous asked:

Dan didn't leave Florida because he's watching eurovision with his boyfriend in a hotel room and that's way more important

when u leave miami but stay with the lesters in florida 😩👅👌🏼💦


Hello, Norfolk! I made it here just in time for dinner with some of the girls in my grad program… now it’s 9:30, and I’m back in my hotel room. I was going to ask if anyone had anything fun to do in Norfolk/VA Beach tonight, but then I decided to spend my time taking ridiculous photos lounging in the giant chair in my room, reading, and going to sleep early instead.

This must be what grown up choices are like. Right? Right.

anonymous asked:

Can you doing something like your drunk and you go into pete's hotel room because that's the only room number you could remember and your just really clingy and needy the complete opposite of sober you and all you wanna do is cuddle with him and he's just at a loss of how to handle this situation. ? I really don't know I'm just in desperate need of fluff pete and him not taking advantage of you when he's most capable I just find that really cute, like you making him feel small for once.

i like this tooooooo, but i’m just gonna take a liiiitttllle creative liberty ;D

You stumbled out of the elevator, your head swimming and your legs a little uncooperative. Maybe that last tequila shot that Marty Scurll had handed you was a bad idea.

You were a photographer assigned to follow the Progress/Ring of Honor tour around the United States and had made fast friends with some of the talent. So when you had been invited out by Marty and some of the other Brits, who were you to say no?

But now you were in a bit of a pickle. You’d lost your room key at the bar and you didn’t know if you were in room 512 or 612. You took a gamble and went with 612, hoping that your fellow photographers were in the room to let you in.

You knocked on the door of room 612 and leaned up against the door frame as you waited. You could hear some shuffling from within the room and some grumbling before the door opened.

Oh. That was most definitely not one of your fellow photographers.

This was the Progress World Champion, Pete Dunne’s room.

Oops, but not really.

The Englishman was intriguing to you. He sneered at the other talent and their offers of friendship, but lurked just to the outside of the social circle looking in. He came off as a hard ass to everyone, snarling and snapping if they stepped into his way and just generally treating the crew like shit.

He’d tried that with you too, but you had gotten right back into his face and told him exactly where he could shove his attitude. Chris Daniels and Kazarian had to interject themselves into your argument and pull the two of you away.

But now here was here in front of you, shirtless and in basketball shorts with a serious case of bed head. You didn’t know you needed a sleepy eyed and confused Pete in your life and drunk you just wanted to snuggle up to him.

So you did.

“What the fu-”

His words were cut off by you wrapping yourself around his body and nuzzling your face into his neck. Your arms were locked around his shoulders and one leg had hooked up around his hips, in an almost lewd embrace. You didn’t realize how cold you were until his body heat began to seep into your skin,

“Hi Pete, you’re warm. Why are you in my room?”

Your words were slurred and you stumbled a little. Out of instinct, Pete’s arm wrapped low around your waist to steady you.

“This is my room love. How much did you have to drink tonight?”

You giggled and nuzzled your face into the Englishman’s neck. The arm that was around your waist tightened by a fraction and you could have sworn goose flesh broke out across his shoulders.

“It’s not my fault, Marty kept giving me tequila. I fuckin’ love tequila. How are you so warm? You feel good.”

Pete’s body was as stiff as a board and you could practically hear his not quite awake brain working overtime to process everything.

“D-do you need me to call anyone?”

You shook your head so hard that your entire body swayed.

“No no no its time for bed. Lost my key. Help me?”

You leaned your head back to stare at him, a silly smile on your face. You were leaning pretty heavily into Pete, the alcohol making your sense of balance and coordination practically nonexistent. He didn’t seem mad, his eyes soft with something that your drunken self couldn’t quite identify and a little half smile on his face.

 He sighed, before nodding and assisting you into the hotel room. You gave a whoop of excitement, before releasing your grip and stumbling further into the room.

He stared at your drunken form for just a moment before turning to set the deadbolt on the door.

It was in that moment that he was not looking at you that you had shrugged off your top and wiggled out of your jeans, leaving you in your panties and a camisole. Pete practically choked on his tongue when saw you in your state of undress.

You spun at the sound and made grabby hands.

“Peeeeettteeee, come cuddle! I’m cooolllddd.”

He squirmed uncomfortably, his face hesitant.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, love.”

You screwed up your face in what you think was a frown, before stumbling forward to grab Pete’s hand.

“No. We’re cuddling and that’s final.”

He didn’t resist as you pulled him onto the rumpled bed and didn’t resist when you curled up into his side.You had draped an arm over his broad chest and hooked a leg over his and sighed contently. He was so warm and big and he just felt safe. It was enough to make you practically purr. It was after a stiff moment or two that he relaxed and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in tighter.

“G’night Pete.”

“Sleep tight love.”

anonymous asked:

well lindsay lohan said harry randomly turned up at her hotel room expecting sex so i'm guessing that's how they imagine it to be (couldn't sound any more fake tbh) (especially knowing harry i mean come on)

exclusive snippet from lindsay’s wattpad fic: *knock knock* *lindsay opens the door* “hello it’s harry styles i was enjoying a light snack when i realised i was in the mood to fornicate and i thought ‘fuck, why not show up at lindsay lohan’s door?’ i guess i was watching mean girls and my heart led me here haha”

i didnt get blackout drunk this anime expo but seeing as how we didnt have a hotel room this year thats probably good. well like, not getting blackout drunk is actually just a general good thing but its even more good if you dont have a hotel room and would have to crash outside or something

anonymous asked:

Jamilton secret agent au


  • So I’m thinking of that one spy movie with the Russian and the American
  • but a lot more gay sex
  • So it’s no secret in the agency that they hate each other
  • And Washington is WashinDONE with their attitudes so hes like
  • Get a long or you’re fired
  • So they go on this mission to take down big drug boss called King George (i’m sorry but it works)
  • And there so much sexual tension
  • because like 
  • Alex being really flexible and maneuvering around lasers and jeffersons like *eyes emoji*
  • Thomas being really strong and like kicking ass and wearing too tight shirts for the work place like cmon thats no fair
  • The stupid nerds sharing a crappy hotel room together
  • Every time the other puts themselves in unforeseen the other gets even more pissed at the than usual
  • “You could have died!”
  • “Ah but i didn’t”
  • “You dumbass, you selfish bastard”
  • “Why do you care?”
  • “Because… because i love you”
  • wow okay love this im done byeeeeee

i cant believe i didnt get photos of the hotel in xi'an

it was right next to the bell tower, literally in the city center, and we thought we were so lucky

how did we get such cheap rooms at this hotel?


thats how

the toilet it in the shower

holy crap guys. don’t fucking wait outside of a band’s hotel room. the hotel itself? not as terrible. but imagine you’re getting ready to go about your day, you walk out of your room, and then WHAM BAM THANK YA MAM, there’s a group of people just. staring at you? and expecting you to be nice and cordial despite the fact that they followed you to your room and probably waited outside of it for a while. kiiiinda creepy. for a person like Gerard, who has stated that he gets socially anxious easily, that’s the equivalent of being asked to give an oral speech in your nighties when you haven’t prepared; it’s just not cool. if you want to meet an artist, wait outside of the venue after the show. try to catch them and talk to them when they’re prepared for it. not when they’re walking out of their friggin hotel room.