Alcohol, an irresponsible situation, and a backseat of a vehicle all optional. Teenage angst and hormones not optional. All teenage characters from any time, setting, or canon welcome, as are adult characters aged down.
Just Feeling It Out: Maybe you'll finally get to touch a boob!
Accidental Boner: Oh. Hi there, downstairs.
Deep Kissing: Heavy tongue action.
Flawless Approach: WILL YOU PLEASE HAVE THE SEX WITH ME? always works.
Party: A crazy atmosphere can lead to crazy decisions.
Goofballs: Both of you kind of suck at this, but at least you're cute.
Experience Difference: It doesn't count if it's not with you. That's what you tell yourself, anyway.
Boyfrands/Girlfrands: Finally rounding those bases with your honey.
No Play: They've told you no touching them below the belt. Oops!
Fumble: You touched the wrong place or said the wrong thing. Is this the end of your adventure.
Desperate: Please, please, please, let me stick it in.
Oral: Sometimes, you just want to kiss someone there.
Feels So Good: Let's hope you can last.
Love Confession: Now is a good a time as ever to tell them how you feel
Success: Awww yeah, break out the cigarette.
Failure: Hopefully they'll forgive you for staining their clothes.
[OOC- Sure! Maybe they're studying together for a project and hormones make things awkward? Or maybe they're the only ones in school during a holiday break or they're in a pre-established relationship or anything else, really; I'm pretty open!]
[OOC: I like all those! How about a little of everything? Let me know if this needs tweaking.]
The first time had been a late night in the library, with both of them scouring through the same book. The privacy and proximity had resulted in the better part of an hour of study time getting taken up by some really prime snogging.
The next few times had all been in various secluded locations throughout the school-- for an institution with rules against such things, there were a lot of places hormonal teenagers could find privacy. There, the kissing had been accompanied by some groping, even a bit of grinding.
This time, the usual hijinks had gotten both Cho's and Hermione's passes to visit Hogsmeade suspended, and so they've gone off to the Room of Requirement with the intention of working on extra credit essays. The trouble is the room decor keeps shifting between a library and desks and a bedroom.
Cho shakes his head at the changing surroundings and laughs. "I think the room is trying to tell us something..."
[OOC- This definitely works! Let me know if you want me to include/avoid anything in terms of preferences.]
While Hermione enjoys spending time with Cho, he's clearly not at all helpful when it comes to her focusing on her studies. She would have thought that a Ravenclaw would have a stronger work ethic when it comes to that sort of thing, but she knows that's patently unfair; he probably would have expected a Gryffindor not to be afraid of flying... or of getting caught snogging. And yet, here they are.
This time, though, it's certainly not her fault, and she can't really claim that it's his fault, either. Granted, she knows the Room of Requirement works based off of one's own personal needs and desires, but it seems far simpler to just blame magic.
Even so, she can't help looking a bit sheepish as she glances up from the book she'd been attempting to read, eyeing Cho innocently (or as innocently as she can, given the circumstances). "It seems to think one of us requires a bed. Did you need a nap?"
[OOC: His kinks are on his profile, but I'm expecting things to run pretty standard for this scenario. :) ]
Cho always had every intention of staying completely on task whenever he and Hermione paired off, but there were just some things more powerful than intellect and intention. And he was a teenager, after all, and so was she, and when privacy and proximity and a little natural attraction mixed together, the resulting potion was pretty obvious.
He laughed at Hermione's comment. "I'm pretty sure that's not what that bed is appearing for, and I know you're too clever to think so." Cho slid along the bench, close enough to Hermione to feel her warmth. "I'm guessing neither one of us can keep their minds on studying right now."
( for this meme, available as bog standard teen usagi - same journal because i'm a lazy asshole - or 30 something for all your older lady fantasies and milf/mature lady/housewife needs, because hormones can be rough. i'm game with her being the experienced partner and doing the guiding, or your character can be the experienced young stud showing her a thing or two. open to all male characters from any medium, ages 16/17+.
The advantages of a socialite sister, practically speaking, meant invitations that a newly minted Oxford-bound boy would never have enjoyed on his own. Edmund was very sure this party was much too swanky for his tastes, but he'd been slaving over his studies for months now, preparing for entrances. He deserved a little 'fun'. That was the theory, anyways, when he'd accompanied Susan this time.
It had been rather fun, in its own way. The punch bowl was rather stronger than he'd been used to in a very long time, and he'd had a rousingly genial sort of row with a boy named Harry there about the latest doings of the London MPs, and he couldn't remember the last time his blood had really raced like that, caught up in something that wasn't all that terribly important but made him laugh and shout all the same. And when Harry had brushed up against him as he was going to get his coat, and whispered to meet him in the kitchen right off the front hallway, well...
"I told my sister we'd be going soon," he'd protested, and yet here he was, budged up against a warm wiry frame and a kitchen counter, lips caught up in lips, his hands in sandy-blond hair, and the first taste of another person on his tongue since Narnia, the first time.
Hot breath in his ears - his own racing pulse, or Harry's? - and a hand plying at his hip, and nothing clear except this and now and oh -
Susan has never been unobservant, has never lost the sharp keen eye that made her such a deft diplomat in Narnia. She still watches everything, still observes, if her realm is now narrower, more petty.
Things like Edmund and the boy he's been talking to, the way his eyes are dancing, the gestures of his hands turning from his normal impassioned speech to something more private and intimate, the casual turn of his body in an orbit.
He's been working so hard. She knows so far she's the only one who's seen it, and she's seen it only because of how well she knows him, started watching the rest of the party harder as soon as she saw anything to make sure nobody else was keeping a slightly too keen gaze on the two. Their slipping away is at least fairly subtle, but the party is beginning to break up bit by bit and there will be people leaving past where Edmund and this Harry have gone.
Really, Edmund. He'd used to be much better at subtlety, but this was a different time and place and age. This was England - there had been kingdoms and alliances at stake before. This was different.
So she watches, and waits, and as soon as she sees someone head in the direction of the kitchen she accidentally spills the umbrella stand getting her own out.
"Oh goodness, that was terribly clumsy of me! I'm so sorry, did you need yours as well? Here, let me get it sorted again."
It's a voice pitched to be clear and carrying, her body angled between the kitchen and the person aiming to head in there. It will give Edmund enough time to recover, she hopes. He has enough experience in practiced lying, at least.
He was almost sure there were no other eyes on them; he was that careful, at least. But he didn't usually have to be careful, here. He just - it was easier not to bother with this sort of thing, and yet really, what did it matter now, as long as nobody knew...
He just couldn't hide it from her. She knew him too well, she'd seen him with the Calormene songstress, and the Felimath captain, and the Narnians he'd loved as King and lover but not simply Edmund as he was here...
The clatter rouses him from his stupor. Susan's voice is the only antidote he needs. How stupid has he been? As if there's no risk here, now... He inhales, and drags himself apart from the intoxication of a dancing-eyed youth. "I'm sorry, I have to..." He extricates his body somehow, well the worse for wear, rumpled and gasping, and dives for the door of the kitchen. "I'm sorry."
He's not as good at lying as he used to be. In relative safety, he's grown indiscreet. Edmund catches himself as he stumbles, a little shake of the head, feeling terribly young again in front of his sister. "All right, let's go. Got your coat? Mine's...somewhere..." Yes, in that closet there. Good.
She takes his hand as he comes out - there are few who know they're sister and brother so it works as cover perfectly well at this moment, how she moves in a little close and smiles at him, lifts the umbrella she's retrieved but doesn't open it quite yet.
"Yes, it's right there. Mine is upstairs, if you need to finish any conversations before we leave?"
He might not want to, but if he does she wants him to have that opportunity, doesn't want him to walk out like that. He was always kind about his dalliances back home.
It's harder to be so here.
"I'll be right back." Her smile is soft and genuine, and she means it. It won't take her more than a minute to retrieve her coat, but she won't move from the hallway if he needs more time than that.
Susan's hand is warm and sure in his own, and he squeezes it gratefully, his face very young as he absorbs her last words.
"Er..." Edmund doesn't even know what he's supposed to do with that, now, here. Kind, yes, but this? "I'll be right there." He exhales, finally scribbles his name and number on a piece of paper procured from his pocket, and slips back into the kitchen. The scrap is thrust into a hand where he finds Harry just through the back hallway, and he's back in the foyier throwing on his coat by the time Susan's headed down the stairs.
"Thank you," he murmurs when they are past the front door. "You didn't have to - but of course you - I mean, I don't do parties, you know!"
His breath makes cloudy puffs in the cold air as they walk to the station, but his cheeks still feel warm. Susan is so much better at this sort of thing than he is. She always has been, but it's even more pronounced here in England.
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bakerstreet2017-01-03 09:21 pm
Scott McCall * Teen Wolf * M/F
bart allen / dctv compliant / ota
Kat Pryde : Marvel : F/M
jon snow | asoiaf/got | m/f
Hermione Granger | Harry Potter |OTA
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[OOC: I like all those! How about a little of everything? Let me know if this needs tweaking.]
The first time had been a late night in the library, with both of them scouring through the same book. The privacy and proximity had resulted in the better part of an hour of study time getting taken up by some really prime snogging.
The next few times had all been in various secluded locations throughout the school-- for an institution with rules against such things, there were a lot of places hormonal teenagers could find privacy. There, the kissing had been accompanied by some groping, even a bit of grinding.
This time, the usual hijinks had gotten both Cho's and Hermione's passes to visit Hogsmeade suspended, and so they've gone off to the Room of Requirement with the intention of working on extra credit essays. The trouble is the room decor keeps shifting between a library and desks and a bedroom.
Cho shakes his head at the changing surroundings and laughs. "I think the room is trying to tell us something..."
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While Hermione enjoys spending time with Cho, he's clearly not at all helpful when it comes to her focusing on her studies. She would have thought that a Ravenclaw would have a stronger work ethic when it comes to that sort of thing, but she knows that's patently unfair; he probably would have expected a Gryffindor not to be afraid of flying... or of getting caught snogging. And yet, here they are.
This time, though, it's certainly not her fault, and she can't really claim that it's his fault, either. Granted, she knows the Room of Requirement works based off of one's own personal needs and desires, but it seems far simpler to just blame magic.
Even so, she can't help looking a bit sheepish as she glances up from the book she'd been attempting to read, eyeing Cho innocently (or as innocently as she can, given the circumstances). "It seems to think one of us requires a bed. Did you need a nap?"
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[OOC: His kinks are on his profile, but I'm expecting things to run pretty standard for this scenario. :) ]
Cho always had every intention of staying completely on task whenever he and Hermione paired off, but there were just some things more powerful than intellect and intention. And he was a teenager, after all, and so was she, and when privacy and proximity and a little natural attraction mixed together, the resulting potion was pretty obvious.
He laughed at Hermione's comment. "I'm pretty sure that's not what that bed is appearing for, and I know you're too clever to think so." Cho slid along the bench, close enough to Hermione to feel her warmth. "I'm guessing neither one of us can keep their minds on studying right now."
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Sorry, took a little longer to get back online :)
That's fine; welcome back! ♥
:)
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usagi tsukino ( sailor moon, mostly ) f/m
info | assumed cr info [ available in sweet/vanilla/canon or kinky versions - for this meme, we can also play an adultery/cheating angle. ] )
Jackson Whittemore | Teen Wolf | M/M
john murphy | the 100
Adam Parrish / The Raven Cycle
Evangeline [Evie] Greene | Arcana Chronicles
Hajime Hinata | Danganronpa (rule63) | OTA!
Lance | Voltron: Legendary Defender | OTA
Pidge Gunderson | Voltron: Legendary Defender | ota
susan pevensie | narnia
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It had been rather fun, in its own way. The punch bowl was rather stronger than he'd been used to in a very long time, and he'd had a rousingly genial sort of row with a boy named Harry there about the latest doings of the London MPs, and he couldn't remember the last time his blood had really raced like that, caught up in something that wasn't all that terribly important but made him laugh and shout all the same. And when Harry had brushed up against him as he was going to get his coat, and whispered to meet him in the kitchen right off the front hallway, well...
"I told my sister we'd be going soon," he'd protested, and yet here he was, budged up against a warm wiry frame and a kitchen counter, lips caught up in lips, his hands in sandy-blond hair, and the first taste of another person on his tongue since Narnia, the first time.
Hot breath in his ears - his own racing pulse, or Harry's? - and a hand plying at his hip, and nothing clear except this and now and oh -
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Things like Edmund and the boy he's been talking to, the way his eyes are dancing, the gestures of his hands turning from his normal impassioned speech to something more private and intimate, the casual turn of his body in an orbit.
He's been working so hard. She knows so far she's the only one who's seen it, and she's seen it only because of how well she knows him, started watching the rest of the party harder as soon as she saw anything to make sure nobody else was keeping a slightly too keen gaze on the two. Their slipping away is at least fairly subtle, but the party is beginning to break up bit by bit and there will be people leaving past where Edmund and this Harry have gone.
Really, Edmund. He'd used to be much better at subtlety, but this was a different time and place and age. This was England - there had been kingdoms and alliances at stake before. This was different.
So she watches, and waits, and as soon as she sees someone head in the direction of the kitchen she accidentally spills the umbrella stand getting her own out.
"Oh goodness, that was terribly clumsy of me! I'm so sorry, did you need yours as well? Here, let me get it sorted again."
It's a voice pitched to be clear and carrying, her body angled between the kitchen and the person aiming to head in there. It will give Edmund enough time to recover, she hopes. He has enough experience in practiced lying, at least.
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He just couldn't hide it from her. She knew him too well, she'd seen him with the Calormene songstress, and the Felimath captain, and the Narnians he'd loved as King and lover but not simply Edmund as he was here...
The clatter rouses him from his stupor. Susan's voice is the only antidote he needs. How stupid has he been? As if there's no risk here, now... He inhales, and drags himself apart from the intoxication of a dancing-eyed youth. "I'm sorry, I have to..." He extricates his body somehow, well the worse for wear, rumpled and gasping, and dives for the door of the kitchen. "I'm sorry."
He's not as good at lying as he used to be. In relative safety, he's grown indiscreet. Edmund catches himself as he stumbles, a little shake of the head, feeling terribly young again in front of his sister. "All right, let's go. Got your coat? Mine's...somewhere..." Yes, in that closet there. Good.
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"Yes, it's right there. Mine is upstairs, if you need to finish any conversations before we leave?"
He might not want to, but if he does she wants him to have that opportunity, doesn't want him to walk out like that. He was always kind about his dalliances back home.
It's harder to be so here.
"I'll be right back." Her smile is soft and genuine, and she means it. It won't take her more than a minute to retrieve her coat, but she won't move from the hallway if he needs more time than that.
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"Er..." Edmund doesn't even know what he's supposed to do with that, now, here. Kind, yes, but this? "I'll be right there." He exhales, finally scribbles his name and number on a piece of paper procured from his pocket, and slips back into the kitchen. The scrap is thrust into a hand where he finds Harry just through the back hallway, and he's back in the foyier throwing on his coat by the time Susan's headed down the stairs.
"Thank you," he murmurs when they are past the front door. "You didn't have to - but of course you - I mean, I don't do parties, you know!"
His breath makes cloudy puffs in the cold air as they walk to the station, but his cheeks still feel warm. Susan is so much better at this sort of thing than he is. She always has been, but it's even more pronounced here in England.
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Takumi | Fire Emblem Fates