FIC: Drabble Challenge #1 - Theraputic Relaxaton (Paris/Rory, PG-13, 1/1) for
Title: Theraputic Relaxation
Author: Nate
Pairing: Paris/Rory, 3rd person POV
Spoilers: Mid-season three, no relationships for either Paris or Rory, during debate season
Rating: PG-13 (non-explicit sexual situations)
Disclaimer: A-SP, DPDHP, Hofflund-Polone and Warner Bros. Television has the Gilmore Girls, I don't. It's that simple, folks, I'm just a fan. Other stuff is owned by other people or companies, and no slander is intended. Cushing Academy is very real and just used to further the plot, along with all the place names in northern Massachusetts.
Archiving: My personal LJ, ff.net. Anywhere else ask first.
Summary: Paris loves a long hot bath, and a certain classmate with long brown hair.
Author's Notes: This is a fic challenge where
Danielle jokingly dared me to write 739 words involving Prory and a bathtub.
And that's just what I wrote. Below, 739 words involving Prory and a bathtub (insert evil and dorky Liz Lemon-like laughter here). A little tweak here and there, some words taken out in some places, and we have a fic right in the guidelines and straight down the goalposts. Obviously because it's so short (for me), I did what I could to set it up and then knock it out of the part. I hope you enjoy it despite those constraints! Enjoy, and thanks again D for the prompt!
There was nothing like a warm bath to strip away the worries of the day.
Paris knew this and took advantage of it often. Baths were her little-known weakness, her own personal luxury to end many stressful days. She could care less if she bought her makeup on the cheap at CVS, but when it came to bath salts and solutions, she could easily lay out $600 on an average trip to The Body Shop to spoil herself within her personal whirlpool bathtub.
Usually she was free to think of whatever she wanted, or do what she wanted within the deepness of that tub. Those thoughts usually wandered to her beguiling and confusing brunette classmate from the Hollow.
Those thoughts could usually be dealt with in private, with nobody the wiser.
But not tonight, not after a furious debate with Cushing Academy in Ashburnham, Massachusetts. Three long hours after a contest where her and Rory barely rung out a win, she had reserved a room at a bed and breakfast just outside of Ashby to spend a quiet Saturday night before her and Rory had to go back home the next day. Ms. Peters was staying elsewhere in Gardner, leaving the two young ladies to share a room which Paris had assumed featured two beds.
However the picture on the website of the room failed to note a subsequent redecoration intended to boost honeymoon business, replacing the two full beds with one king-size bed both girls would have to share. After fretting to the owner for a half-hour she received a half-refund, but had to make do with the room.
After that it was no wonder that she snapped at Rory that she needed a bath. She shut the door, shucked her uniform off and after setting a radio to soothing New Age music, climbed into the steaming and bubbly clawfoot tub which had water so hot it would scald a lesser being. Paris closed her eyes, letting the soothing and aromatic bath salts relax her tightened muscles and overwhelm her senses until the combined four senses take her to another world, where she dreamed of her beloved vice-president next to her, confessing a want of the blonde and a need to make her feel what Jamie could not on her date.
She was so thankful when she heard about the dance marathon, how both men had pissed Rory off so much she declared herself single and told them both to leave while she danced her way to victory with her mother. Rory had become more sane, calm...
Even more beautiful, she thought. Her thin wrinkled fingers took in the folds along her femininity, so sensitive after she saw Rory prove herself worthy with a game-changing takedown of Cushing's argument for Social Security privatization. I'm such a sucker. When Rory gets angry, I get horny. She began to work herself slowly, stroking her fingers around and along her clit, the thin covering of blonde hair against her mons providing little resistance.
She accidently triggered the sleep function on the radio however and suddenly found the soothing music had disappeared. She cursed under her breath and prepared to get up from her comfortable stroking.
"Par...oh God...so...fucking...passionate, oh God..."
Her ears perked up as she heard the whispers on the other side of the door. She stayed still for awhile, wondering if her imagination was echoing.
A grunt of desire that was very Rory-like suggested that was hardly the case.
Rory is getting off to me, she thought. Her body stilled and she felt everything melt away. If she was her usual self she might just forget.
Her bluntness got the best of her.
"Rory? Come in here."
"Huh?"
"Please, come in here. We have something to discuss about the debate." A couple minutes of dead silence. Suddenly she heard shuffling against the hardwood floor and then an opening of the door.
"Par?" The blue-eyed innocent expected Paris to look beautiful in the bath.
Never did she expect that the vision of her sexual fantasies would be looking at her so blatantly, even in a long tank top which barely hid she had slid off her underwear minutes earlier.
Two more minutes of silence. Both women were intelligent enough to know what was next.
"Come here," Paris beckoned. Rory complied.
Both made love in the deep and roomy bath, twice. Then the bed.
Paris loved bathing even more. So did Rory.
THE END.
Author: Nate
Pairing: Paris/Rory, 3rd person POV
Spoilers: Mid-season three, no relationships for either Paris or Rory, during debate season
Rating: PG-13 (non-explicit sexual situations)
Disclaimer: A-SP, DPDHP, Hofflund-Polone and Warner Bros. Television has the Gilmore Girls, I don't. It's that simple, folks, I'm just a fan. Other stuff is owned by other people or companies, and no slander is intended. Cushing Academy is very real and just used to further the plot, along with all the place names in northern Massachusetts.
Archiving: My personal LJ, ff.net. Anywhere else ask first.
Summary: Paris loves a long hot bath, and a certain classmate with long brown hair.
Author's Notes: This is a fic challenge where
Danielle jokingly dared me to write 739 words involving Prory and a bathtub.
And that's just what I wrote. Below, 739 words involving Prory and a bathtub (insert evil and dorky Liz Lemon-like laughter here). A little tweak here and there, some words taken out in some places, and we have a fic right in the guidelines and straight down the goalposts. Obviously because it's so short (for me), I did what I could to set it up and then knock it out of the part. I hope you enjoy it despite those constraints! Enjoy, and thanks again D for the prompt!
There was nothing like a warm bath to strip away the worries of the day.
Paris knew this and took advantage of it often. Baths were her little-known weakness, her own personal luxury to end many stressful days. She could care less if she bought her makeup on the cheap at CVS, but when it came to bath salts and solutions, she could easily lay out $600 on an average trip to The Body Shop to spoil herself within her personal whirlpool bathtub.
Usually she was free to think of whatever she wanted, or do what she wanted within the deepness of that tub. Those thoughts usually wandered to her beguiling and confusing brunette classmate from the Hollow.
Those thoughts could usually be dealt with in private, with nobody the wiser.
But not tonight, not after a furious debate with Cushing Academy in Ashburnham, Massachusetts. Three long hours after a contest where her and Rory barely rung out a win, she had reserved a room at a bed and breakfast just outside of Ashby to spend a quiet Saturday night before her and Rory had to go back home the next day. Ms. Peters was staying elsewhere in Gardner, leaving the two young ladies to share a room which Paris had assumed featured two beds.
However the picture on the website of the room failed to note a subsequent redecoration intended to boost honeymoon business, replacing the two full beds with one king-size bed both girls would have to share. After fretting to the owner for a half-hour she received a half-refund, but had to make do with the room.
After that it was no wonder that she snapped at Rory that she needed a bath. She shut the door, shucked her uniform off and after setting a radio to soothing New Age music, climbed into the steaming and bubbly clawfoot tub which had water so hot it would scald a lesser being. Paris closed her eyes, letting the soothing and aromatic bath salts relax her tightened muscles and overwhelm her senses until the combined four senses take her to another world, where she dreamed of her beloved vice-president next to her, confessing a want of the blonde and a need to make her feel what Jamie could not on her date.
She was so thankful when she heard about the dance marathon, how both men had pissed Rory off so much she declared herself single and told them both to leave while she danced her way to victory with her mother. Rory had become more sane, calm...
Even more beautiful, she thought. Her thin wrinkled fingers took in the folds along her femininity, so sensitive after she saw Rory prove herself worthy with a game-changing takedown of Cushing's argument for Social Security privatization. I'm such a sucker. When Rory gets angry, I get horny. She began to work herself slowly, stroking her fingers around and along her clit, the thin covering of blonde hair against her mons providing little resistance.
She accidently triggered the sleep function on the radio however and suddenly found the soothing music had disappeared. She cursed under her breath and prepared to get up from her comfortable stroking.
"Par...oh God...so...fucking...passionate, oh God..."
Her ears perked up as she heard the whispers on the other side of the door. She stayed still for awhile, wondering if her imagination was echoing.
A grunt of desire that was very Rory-like suggested that was hardly the case.
Rory is getting off to me, she thought. Her body stilled and she felt everything melt away. If she was her usual self she might just forget.
Her bluntness got the best of her.
"Rory? Come in here."
"Huh?"
"Please, come in here. We have something to discuss about the debate." A couple minutes of dead silence. Suddenly she heard shuffling against the hardwood floor and then an opening of the door.
"Par?" The blue-eyed innocent expected Paris to look beautiful in the bath.
Never did she expect that the vision of her sexual fantasies would be looking at her so blatantly, even in a long tank top which barely hid she had slid off her underwear minutes earlier.
Two more minutes of silence. Both women were intelligent enough to know what was next.
"Come here," Paris beckoned. Rory complied.
Both made love in the deep and roomy bath, twice. Then the bed.
Paris loved bathing even more. So did Rory.
THE END.