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

Date pulls off your cock quickly, once you're spent, gulping air and steadying himself, first of all. You're partially held up by his frame bracing your legs from sliding too far, but you're melted more than butter and the precarious balance you've got is not going to last.

He reaches for you, supporting your descent, slowing it somewhat.

"Shingo." His voice is roughened somewhat, and he coughs to clear the stiffness from the back of his throat. He's rock-hard, but that's not his focus right now; he's coasting so high on pride and pleasure from doing this to you that his own arousal is tied into that pride, tied into that pleasure. It's a patient lust, an enduring one. He'll attend to that in a moment. For now, he gently guides you into his arms, propping his back against the wall, propping you against him.

By this point you're both a mess, and he licks his lips roughly, pressing a clumsy kiss to the side of your neck as he helps you settle onto the shower room floor, much more safe and at far less risk of concussing yourself.

The water, nearby, washes over one of his shins, warming the muscle that cramped a bit while he knelt before you. He notes it, thinking a good wash off, with soap to sanitize his hand and your quite lovely entrance, is quite in order.

In a minute.

Shingo sighs and presses in against you, cupping your cheeks and squirming up to kiss your mouth hard, shuddering as his tongue slides between your lips and he tastes himself, his tongue stroking against yours. He's flushed and trembling and pleasantly sated, and he can feel whatever was clouding his head start to ebb from his system as he relaxes, just pressing wet, slow kisses to your mouth.

He shifts again, feeling you cock drag against his hip before he pushes back and cups your face, his hands still a little unsteady.

"What do you want?" he breathes against your mouth, pressing the length of his body against yours as he holds you closer, arching his back. "How do you want me to..." He reaches down, one hand touching your hip as he slides his mouth down your throat, just kissing your damp skin hungrily.

Date smiles against your kiss, feeling you shake and indulging in a little shiver or two of his own. It's all deliciously pleasurable. He's just riding it all, contented.

When you speak he strokes your wet hair out of your eyes, meeting yours with his own, and a soft shake of his head. "Shh," he breathes, stroking your hair, your nape, your shoulders, pressing you against him, to relax, to be supported by him. "Don't rush it. Just enjoy it for now. I'm fine."

He nuzzles into your palm, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted as he sighs, then presses against you again. He can feel you digging into his hip and he slides a hand up your chest to tease lightly at one of your nipples, his mouth warm and slow as he presses light kisses up your shoulder.

"I want to," he hums into your ear, his voice low and warm as he pinches gently at sensitive skin, just rubbing his hips gently against yours.

Well that's. Hard to argue with.

His head falls back, mouth working silently as your fingers temporarily strip thought from his mind. His hips move softly in answer to yours, thick thighs flexing.

"Well...that's...okay then," he says, after a few more minutes of this, by which point he's come back up to full hard - say what you want about its aphrodesiac properties, of which there are many, but partial suffocation does affect bloodflow, it's a medical fact - and he's twitching in your arms, wondering why he was thinking it was a better plan to take care of this himself. Your plan is far better.

He tries for coherence, fingers raking through your hair to grip and hold, press your mouth to his chest, and he gasps as he does so.

"That feels...Shingo, that feels very.

"Mmmgh."

Pretty complex sentence, all things considered.

Shingo nuzzles under your jaw, his breath warm and his body shifting away from yours, bracing himself on your chest as he looks down at you. His hand slides low on your belly, then curls around you to stroke gently as he nibbles his lower lip, his eyes intent and searching.

"Do you want to stand up?" he asks softly, his lips parting and his cheeks flushed.

He shudders against you, ribcage jerking abruptly as he sucks in air, your hand on his cock distracting him almost from the fact you're speaking.

"N-no." He shifts, or tries to; you're still weighting him down. But he likes the idea of staying down for this round, indulging in the freedom to let the quivers overtake him without fear of dropping you. Or dropping ONTO you.

"This - this's okay." Well. Will be, once you rearrange him, and yourself. He could focus on figuring that part out, but he's coasting and it feels gorgeous, and you're a competent, intelligent person. You can sort it out for him.

He laughs, his voice warm and a little raw, kissing you once before he just presses you back against the wall, his eyes hungry and thoughtful. Then he squirms down, curling up on the floor and pressing a forearm over your hips before he leans in and closes his mouth over the head of your cock.

He can't help making a soft sound in his throat as he feels the heat and stretch in his mouth, your flesh pressing his tongue down and his jaw wide as he sinks lower, careful to keep his teeth out of the way. He looks up at you for a moment, his eyes sharp, before he closes them and tightens his lips on you, just sucking gently and shifting his head, drawing you into his mouth by slow degrees.

The band of weight across his hips makes Date jerk, his cock bobbing eagerly; your mouth on it drags a soft, smothered grunt from him as his head lolls to one side, eyes fluttering shut. His fingers grip at the tile, nails flashing white; one foot scrapes for a grip as well, his knee rising, trying to brace his body to thrust. It's all instinct. He muffles it as best as he can, pushing his knee back down, forcing his fingers to relax.

Then with your lips wrapped snug around him, Date catches just a flash, just a moment's sight of your expression as you look up at him, through his own eyelashes, eyes half-lidded with sleepy lust, and your brow drawn down, measuring, careful, perhaps even calculating.

He has just enough time to think, Oh! That's what was always missing in Anko's beauty. A sense of sympathy before your lips tighten, your head bobs down slowly, and finally the groan he's been trying to restrain rips from him, deep and alpha and loud, with a curse word tangled in its trailing sound.

"Shi--" It could be a curse; it turns into your name. "Shingo..."

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.

BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

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