WS Comment Fic Fest Reboot!

[katekintail.livejournal.com]

It's the season for luuuuuve, so I thought we could try another comment fic fest. There's no pressure, only fun and kink! Prompts & fills can be Valentine's Day-themed or not; it's up to you.

Rules/Details:
Post prompts as replies here for stories/fics that could feature watersports. Include any of the following: fandom, pairing, rating, situation. Post as many prompts as you like--with ONE prompt per post. If you see a prompt that inspires you, write for it and post it as a reply to the prompt. You can prompt without writing and write without prompting. You can post as many fills as you like. No pressure, just fun. Make sure anything you prompt/fill adheres to the guidelines of the community (no real person slash, no underage characters, no pimping, no photographs, etc.).

Prompt examples:
*Harry Potter, Draco/Harry, any rating. At the beginning of their relationship Draco uses magic to trick Harry into some pissplay with him. Then he realizes Harry knew about the trick all along and allowed it to happen because he shares the same kink.
*Any characters, any fandom. One character has a condition where he has to go to the bathroom a whole lot. He apologizes for it repeatedly, but the other character is not complaining *G*

FAQ:
*Are you sure I can post a prompt even if I'm not writing any? Sure. Go ahead and inspire our writers!
*Can I write a fic for a prompt that's already been filled? Absolutely!
*Do I have to claim a prompt in order to write it? Nope. Write whatever you like whenever you like.
*Can I post my piece elsewhere? Of course, it's yours. Do what you like with it.
*Can I post it elsewhere and just link to it here? Sure, as long as the place you're linking to isn't friends-locked.
*Can I fill my own prompt? Go right ahead.
*Can I fill a prompt with an art piece instead of a story? Of course.

Master List of Fills:
Any fandom, any male/male, any rating, trapped in elevator and needing to pee
FILL: God Yes (BBC Sherlock, Sherlock/John) by toratio

Any, any pairing, a character gets spanked every time he/she has an accident. Luckily, the character loves getting spanked so starts playfully having accidents on purpose.
FILL: Ask Me No Questions (BBC Sherlock, Irene/Molly) by justwolf

Harry Potter - Snape and/or Lupin - A long night at the Leaky Cauldron and a bumpy right home in the Knight Bus. They may have an accident in the bus, or do they make it home?
FILL: Unpredictable (Harry Potter, Snape/Remus) by katekintail

Marvel/Avengers, Clint/Coulson, Hawkeye's on stakeout and really needs to take a break to piss but he doesn't want to leave his post and let Coulson down on the mission. Bonus points for Clint breaking down and describing his desperation to Coulson over the com.
FILL: Under Cover (Marvel/Avengers, Clint/Coulson) by katekintail

Two characters in a D/s relationship. When one character is feeling very submissive, they wet themselves. The other character LOVES this.
FILL: For Me (Buffyverse, Xander/Spike) by katekintail

Comments

[katekintail.livejournal.com]

Part 2/3

An intense urge struck him, bending him at the waist, almost throwing him off balance, which was a feat for Clint who practically lived up high like this. He was sure he was going to wet his pants if he stayed here any longer. And S.H.I.E.L.D. agents did not have accidents. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were clever. They improvised. “I’m getting down.”

“Negative, Barton.”

“But I’ve really got to piss. You don’t understand how bad.”

“I understand that we’re going to have a talk about this later. But until then, you’re holding your position just like you’re holding your bladder. That’s an order.”

“I’m not going to make it,” it sounded so close to a whimper. Barton’s hands felt moist with sweat and he was sure the one shoved down the front of his pants might already be moist with something else. He could imagine the piss coming out, drop by drop, from the tip into his shorts.

“Then just stop complaining and go.”

Barton knew that command meant he should whip it out and piss. But he didn’t want to leave a trace of himself there for the patrolmen to find or slip in. DNA tests wouldn’t be beyond this Vince Cloves’ abilities, and he didn’t need proof that someone was onto him. That would put the entire operation, not to mention Natasha, at risk. So Barton heard the words, and purposefully misinterpreted it.

With his bow strapped onto his back, he began climbing down the tree. When he got to the bottom, he threw off his equipment and took off his vest. Shirtless and with his hand at his crotch because if he didn’t squeeze, he’d lose it in his pants, he headed for the gate.

The guard on duty recognized him from earlier, when the party had been in full swing and when Clint had purposefully asked him for a light. It had been Clint’s plan to be memorable, which was hard to do when most men only had eyes for Natasha. Clint slid into his false identity at once, claiming his car had broken down and that he’d walked back, drunk, because he needed to pee.

“Barton!” Coulson scolded. “You are not authorized to—”

“Thanks,” Clint said, as the guard let him past the gate and Clint hurried up the walk toward the house. For Coulson’s benefit, he said, “I just need a quick piss. He’ll never suspect.”

“If he slipped you a diuretic, he already suspects.”

But Clint wasn’t sure that was true. And, even if it were, it would be better to play his part and figure out what the man was up to. So he walked up to the front door, rang the bell, and took his hand off his crotch just as the door opened. The butler was not pleased to see him. But Clint begged and rambled for long enough for Mr. Cloves to see what the matter was.

“Vince, hey buddy,” Clint’s undercover persona spoke slowly, and he was trying to keep his desperation from ruining that. “My car broke down a couple blocks from here. My driver called a garage, but I’ve really got to go and there’s no way in hell I’m doing it on the side of the road where anyone could see when I know someone with a perfectly good toilet. So, can I…?”

Vince gestured toward the guest bathroom and Clint made his way there in haste. He caught a glimpse of Natasha in one of the rooms and she flashed him a quick sign that was her fiddling with her left earring to let him know she was all right. She probably thought he’d made up an excuse to come in and rescue her when, in reality, all he could truthfully think about was the toilet.

Once he was inside, it was almost impossible to not piss his pants. He had to squeeze his dick as he put up the toilet seat. The need intensified so much at the prospect of being so damn close to peeing that he whimpered and danced on one foot then the other as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

“Calm down, Barton,” Coulson’s voice said suddenly in his ear. “You’re going to make it.” He sounded so reassuring, easy for him to be calm when it wasn’t his bladder flailing about, desperate to empty.

[katekintail.livejournal.com]

Part 3/3

Biting his lip, sweat trickling down his face, he pulled out his cock and started peeing the instant it was barely pointing at the toilet bowl. A splash of pee hit the back of the toilet lid and even more hit the seat, but the rest met the water in the toilet bowl with a reassuring, familiar sound. He moaned softly, not really wanting to be overheard, though that would lend credibility to his story.

Coulson could hear him, though, and commented with his voice low and deep but reassuring, unlike his commanding S.H.I.E.L.D. agent voice. “Good job. Just let it out and relax, Clint. You made it.”

“I did,” he whispered. “Made it. And this feels so good.”

“Good. I’m glad it feels good. I’m glad you’re happy. Because when you’re back in that tree, we’re going to have a little talk about professionalism and going against a direct order.”

Clint grunted but couldn’t get too worried. The blissful relief washing over him now that he had safely reached a toilet without wetting himself was far too good.

He drained his cock entirely, standing at the toilet as the stream broke, thinned, and turned into a few small spurts then dribbles. He watched the last few drops drip from the tip. Then he tucked himself back into his pants. He buttoned his pants but kept the fly down to pretend he was an incompetent guy too drunk after the party to notice.

Before he headed back out, he quickly washed his hands in the bathroom sink. With the water running to cover the sound, he reached up and opened the medicine cabinet. It was the guest bathroom, so his hopes weren’t high. But when he spotted a little brown bottle with a familiar medicine name printed on it, he had to smile. “I knew it.”

“What’s that, Clint?”

Clint didn’t answer, but he did slip the bottle into his pocket for later.