dinohouse | BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

from here

In the interests of good clean fun, we're providing you with a bathtime meme~

The scenario is quite simple, your character finds themselves in the bath or shower with another character (clothed? Naked? Getting naked? Who knows~ That's part of the fun!), whether this is normal or your character has just "poofed" into the situation is up to you! Hijinks ensue.

Feel free to mix and match, use the options below, or go to RNG and let the gods decide

1. dropped the soap - ..Huh... how did you end up in prison? And during shower hour....

2. peasoup steam - The water is hot tonight and the steam is making it way too hot to see anything! Keep your hands to themselves

3. slip and slide - Whoooa all those puddles are making it hard to stand up straight. Maybe someone can help you out.

4. accidental peeping tom - Oh the joys of communal showers.... especially if someone starts attending to their... "needs" right next to you.

5. bubble bath - Because FUCK YEAH BUBBLES.

6. obligatory sex option - Huh, you're stuck in a shower with someone... and there's a note taped on the door. "If you want out, you gotta make out for 10 minutes~ Cheers!" Did we mention the aphro pumping in with the steam and water? Because there's that too.

7. ANYTHING ELSE. Anything and everything else.

Remember when you post up with your character, make sure to specify if you're okay with smut or not!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hums around you and sinks down lower--it's been a long time since he's done this, but he enjoys it, the way your body tenses under his, the way you shift to thrust and then deliberately stop yourself. He makes a satisfied noise and drags the nails of his free hand absently over your belly as he takes you in far enough that you brush the back of his throat, his lips tight as he starts to slide you in and out of his mouth, his body shivering faintly when you say his name.

It's all so good. Your nails, your throat, and when you begin the back and forth, he can barely hold himself back from adding to the force. He feels you shiver. It can't possibly be causal, but he coughs, grunts, gathers enough air and focus to distract himself from the urge to fuck your face, to try a different experiment.

"Shingo?" A quiver. He purrs, high in his chest, low in his throat, and one hand comes down to stroke your hair gently, barely touching for fear of giving in to the urge to shove.

"Shingo, Shingo--" He'll say it as many times as you want, and not only because it makes your everything shiver around his cock.

He wonders what it would be like to be between your legs, when you shake like this. He was so distracted before - the finer details got lost.

He wants to pay attention next time.

He's free of the drug, he thinks, because his thoughts are clear, linear enough, considering he's getting his cock sucked.

He's thinking of a next time.

"Shingo," he purrs, forcing himself to put all that aside in the most compelling way he can think of.

He moans and clutches at your thigh, his nails digging in faintly as he pushes down on your cock and sucks hard, his teeth grazing very delicately as he runs his hand along your thigh and moves faster, leaning into your hand brushing his hair. He makes a fierce, hungry sound around you and slides his hand in to press slow, cool fingers just behind your balls, rubbing deep circles against sensitive skin as he looks back up at your face.

It doesn't take long, and when it comes it's less a crash and more a soft fall. Eventually his breath catches hard, then harder, and his hands fly open, fingers spread wide, grasping aimlessly, mouth open and slack, nothing more coherent than a breathless groan. He can't keep from bucking into your mouth now, belly held hard, ass clenched tight, hips rolled forward, offering every little centimeter of his stout cock for your mouth that he possibly can.

He spills into your mouth, onto your tongue - flinching back, shivering forward, shuddering at the nick of your nails on his legs, the nudge of your teeth against his cock. He's got nothing left to spend when he's done, wrung dry, heart pounding, head dizzy.

"...Shingo." He whispers.

He draws back when you're done, swallowing quickly and just gasping for air. His face is flushed, and he just blushes darker when you say his name like that. He wants, so badly, to just lean into your chest, wrap his arms around you and settle there to feel the heat of your skin on his, but... he knows the drug must be wearing off by now and he sits back instead, watching you with clear, soft eyes.

"Date--ah, Date-san. ...how are you feeling?"

You pull back, and he doesn't understand why.

As he gathers his breath, sucking several hard pulls of air before the world starts to sparkle less and all the right angles slowly begin to reassemble themselves, he draws his focus down onto your expression.

There's a small mess on the corner of your mouth. There's clarity in your eyes. He reaches for your hand, fingers spread, meaning to lace his with yours.

"Shingo," he murmurs, watching your face, watching every little motion of your eyes, your brow, the muscles at the corner of your mouth that show whether you're hiding a frown. He's not sharp, but intent.

He reaches back immediately, unable to help himself, taking your hand and wiping at his mouth a little, his cheeks still flushed.

"That isn't an answer," he prompts gently, his stomach coiling slowly into doubting, apprehensive knots. "Are you--are you feeling all right? Is your head clear?"

He takes your hand, clasps it gently but firmly.

And tugs, dragging you back toward him, close as you were before. Now he can reach your mouth with his free hand, and he does, using the knuckle of his pinky finger to carefully rub away the smear of his cum at the corner of your lips. He licks his knuckle clean, making a point that it's not disgusting to him, and lifts his hand again to your face, thumb on your jawline, fingers curving behind your ear to hold you.

"I feel fabulous," he chuckles, wry warmth in his eyes. "And my head is very clear."

He tugs you down to lay on his chest.

He tenses a little when you tug him in against you, but he can't help leaning into the warm, sure touch of your hands, watching your mouth as you bring your finger to it before he blushes and holds your hand against his face.

"Good," he says, sounding a little dazed as you pull him back in and all of the tension just runs out of his body like water as he winds his arms around you. "That's good, I'm glad. Me too."

He sighs softly, just... letting himself enjoy being held for a few moments. Your chest is solid and he can feel your heartbeat under your skin, solid and comforting. He closes his eyes, nuzzling a little under your jaw and still holding your hand, his grip on it tightening slightly.

"I don't have a clue what that was," Date muses softly, combing his fingers through your hair. "It might have been an inhalant, except it got worse when the steam increased, when logically it should have been bound to the water vapor and descended, and either not continued to enter our lungs, or diluted the effects. ...Perhaps it was a topical application, using water droplets or water vapor as a vehicle?"

He shifts under you, curling one leg around you - not sure what part, still too blitzed for that, just knows that he wants more close, more warmth.

Speaking of warmth. And of water, for that matter. He reaches over to the side, above your head, and cranks off the water. The silence in the room, in the absence of its flow, is somewhat startling.

"...Shouldn't have left that running," he says, sheepish. "Normally I'm a lot better about water conservation than, um. That."

"We were slightly distracted," Shingo says, curling in against you closer and sighing, unable to help himself from leaning into your hands in his hair. This, just touching like this--he can't remember the last time it happened, and it's so nice...

"We might want to relocate, though," he says reluctantly. "Just in case, especially if it really was so mysterious." The absolute last thing he wants to do is let you release him and put clothes on, but he dislikes the idea of going through another round of uncertainty like that more.

"Mmm." It's getting chilly with the water off, now that there's no new steam being produced, and his skin is prickling in the cold. Where your body touches his, though, is warm and cosy.

"Clothes, I guess?" He sounds about as enthused about it as you do. "But...first."

Date tugs you up, gently but unrelentingly, til he has your mouth against his. He kisses you slowly, deliberately. Making a point - or proving one.

When he pulls back, his pupils are blown out, eyes dark and intense for a reason that has nothing to do with drugs or even lust (trust him on that one - you did quite a number on him).

"...Okay. Clothes."

"Mmm!" Shingo gasps a little into the slow, liquid heat of your mouth, and the intensity of the kiss has him hanging in your grip when you pull back, his eyes dazed when you pull back and his lips flushed and soft.

"Oh," he says, a little muzzily, before he gathers himself enough to stand up and offer you a hand, his cheeks dark. "Yes, clothes."

He takes your hand, despite the possible overbalancing issue that seems apparent here, and staggers to his feet with an indomitable grin and nod.

"I left mine out in the changing room, with the locker banks." He remembers that much, at least, before the drug started to fuzz everything else over. "Do you remember where yours are?"

"That's where mine are too," he nods, trying not to stare at the bare, warm expanse of your skin, already flushed enough as it is even with the chill starting to prickle at his skin.

He takes your hand, leads you to the lockers. He doesn't understand any more than you do, right now.

He just understands there's been something between you two that goes deeper than a drug.

You keep touching him, and his whole chest is tight and aching faintly and he tries to beat it back, tries not to hope too much. He finds his clothes and drags them back on, making an effort not to stare at you while you get dressed, and he busies himself with his tie as you finish up, his cheeks a little flushed and his fingers fumbling.

He's dressed. So are you. There's a silent pause that stretches.

He puts out one hand.

"Come over for a cup of coffee?"

"Date... Date-san." He can't stop himself from taking your hand, but he's biting his lower lip.

"I--you don't have to do this. I mean--" He struggles briefly, not knowing how to word this without upsetting you. "I wanted what happened. It was... it was good. But you don't owe me anything--if you don't want anything else, that's fine too." His fingers tighten a little on your hand, contrary to his words, and he hesitates helplessly--he wants this too much, and he can't meet your eyes because he knows his own are helpless and hungry, and he wants you to decide.

Date exhales slowly, keeping his center, keeping his solid ground. He squeezes your hand, expecting you won't look up, wishing you would. His voice is warm, reassuring. He can feel the need in your grip.

"Come have a coffee with me. I think we've got a lot to talk about, Shingo.

"But I don't think we need to put the honorifics back on."

He relaxes a little at that, and he does look up at you, deliberately smoothing his expression.

"All right. Date," he says, before he loosens his deathgrip on your fingers and bites his lower lip.

A warm, honest chuckle, squeezing your hand gently.

"C'mon." He leads you out of the strange bathhouse, and though he releases your hand as you reach the exit, before you step onto the street again, his smile doesn't falter at all.

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BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

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[let's continue with the next scene, but elsewhere, this poor meme is abused enough]