bakerstreet | The 'It Started With A Kiss' Meme

The 'It Started With A Kiss' Meme

IT STARTED WITH A KISS

How to play
① Tag in with your name/series.
② Go to RNG and roll 1-10. That's your scenario!
③ Tag around!
④ Have fun. :)

Scenarios

① ACCIDENTAL. Did someone shove you on the subway? Were you standing too close and did one of you trip? Oops, this is awkward!
② PASSIONATE. You love this person so much that it's impossible to hold yourself in check any more!
③ GENTLE. They knew it was coming, you knew it was too late to back out. Trouble is, you're having a lot of FEELINGS.
④ GIGGLY. How are you supposed to kiss them when neither of you can stop laughing?
⑤ SMOOTH. You couldn't have been smoother with that smooch if you were whisked with fruit, dashed with milk and served over the counter.
⑥ DANGEROUS. This really isn't the time to be getting romantic! If it goes wrong, you can always blame the adrenaline, right? Right.
⑦ SAD. Remember: a wet kiss is a memorable kiss, even if it isn't a good one.
⑧ TEASING. The tables have turned: this time, they will be the one left wanting more.
⑨ PAINFUL. Clinked teeth? Banged foreheads? Well done, Romeo, now you both share the same sore distraction.
⑩ LINGERING. You just ... can't ... stop. Uh oh.

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((ooc: Are you possibly up for threading with this princess of Mars?))

(( Sure thing! Any preferences? ))

((Does some mix of 5 and 8 sound okay? Maybe he's visiting the planet and...let's face it, who wouldn't try and woo a princess?))

(( Sounds good to me! Do you mind starting, or would you like me to write something up? ))

((I'm fine starting! Just let me know if you'd like anything changed or if you want to go a different route. I did prose, but I'm fine with brackets if you prefer.))

The last time anyone from Earth visited Barsoom, war had erupted and the planet had almost descended into a state of chaos. Of course Tardos Mors, Jedak of the kingdom of Helium, feared such would happen again.

Even worse, he feared more for his daughter, the princess Dejah Thoris, becoming smitten with their visitor.

He called himself Peter Quill, Star-Lord. A lofty title, and Dejah figured he had fashioned the title for himself. She genuinely enjoyed his company, sitting near him at dinner, listening to the tales he spun. Because of her duties on Barsoom, or Mars, as he called it (or as everyone from Earth called it, just as her people called Earth Jasoom), Dejah had not been able to go off-world and see the galaxy as she so desired.

Entertainment filled the night; dances, singing, gambling. They stayed through it all, Dejah taking a particular interest in the card games. Soon it was just the two of them in the grand hall. Everyone else had retired to bed long ago. But Dejah wasn't a bit tired. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she laid down her cards to reveal her winning hand.

"I win again," at this point they weren't playing for money, just for the entertainment. This suited her just fine. "You wouldn't be going easy on me now, would you?"

Peter shot her a crooked smile as he tossed his cards on the tabletop -- a decidedly useless hand, and he should've cut his losses early on in the round. He leaned forward on an elbow and dropped his voice low when he said, "Well, maybe I'm just trying to lull you into a false sense of security, Princess."

The reality was, though, that Peter's luck had been terrible. He could easily slip a card or two away into his sleeve, he thought, but where would the fun be in that? This was just a friendly game, after all.

He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the grand hall again. Only a spur of the moment decision had brought him here; he had been a hair's breadth away from landing on Earth, close to visiting the planet from which he had been estranged for twenty-six years, and a last-second decision had diverted him to Mars. Some might assume, and rightfully so, that his decision had been borne out of fear, but Peter decided to chalk it up to luck.

It was weird to think that all of this was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Earth, and he was grateful that the people in this kingdom were friendly. And fascinating, as was the case with the princess.

He brought his attention back to her, and his smile suddenly turned sly. "Hey, what would you say to upping the ante a bit?"

Dejah smiled right back, collecting the cards he had laid down and began to shuffle. Despite being a princess she rather liked cards, so she had a deft hand at shuffling. "You don't strike me as patient enough for such a tactic."

This was probably though what she liked most about him: The banter. Everyone in the kingdom, for obvious reasons, was far too proper and respectful for Dejah to practice wordplay with. There was Kantos Kan, the Jedwar, who teased her on occasion, but they had been childhood friends, so that was natural. And she didn't see him often anyway.

Dejah paused in her shuffling to adjust the jewelry around her neck. Barsoom was hot, despite being farther from the sun than Earth. The oceans had dried up long ago, leaving the planet dry and acrid, with a single river that many thought was only a myth. But, as it was so hot, the inhabitants of Barsoom wore very little clothing. For many, it was perfectly acceptable to walk about naked save for elaborate jewels set in gold to barely cover the body. Dejah could dress like that if she so desired, but she preferred ensembles like the one she wore now: Long golden chains, bright blue jewels laid into them, her breasts covered by a simple wrapping of blue fabric that left her navel exposed, the skirt was cut in a similar fashion. Her limbs were bare, save for more jewelry, showing off her dark tan skin.

It only made her deep blue eyes flash that much more when he made the suggestion.

"Oh? What did you have in mind, my dear Star-Lord?"

Oh, Peter loved it when people called him Star-Lord, and the princess endeared herself to him all the more.

He adjusted his vest -- worn in place of his usual jacket, in deference to the oppressive heat of Mars -- before he leaned forward on an elbow again, and for a quick moment he couldn't help but follow the line of her collar bone with his eyes. Unconsciously he licked his lips before showing off his trademarked smirk and meeting her gaze once more.

Peter started slowly, "How about..." but then he paused, playing at forming the idea as he went. For a second or two he watched her shuffle, feigning a thoughtful look before saying at last, "How about this -- if I win this hand, I get to kiss you. Sound fair?"

Dejah held the cards in her hands, pursing her lips as she considered the wager.

"I find it hard to believe that all you desire is a simple kiss," Dejah teased. One hand came up, curling a lock of her black hair around her index finger. "But, if a kiss is what you want, a kiss you shall have."

It was her turn to lean forward, elbows on the table, her chin resting atop her folded hands, cards still gripped in one palm.

"If you win. Which brings me to my next question: What if I win?"

Peter couldn't help but smile when she called him on the kiss. He definitely wanted more, but there would be time enough for that later. For now, he was content to flirt, to make this worth both their while.

"I'm guessing 'you get to kiss me isn't your idea of a fair deal," he said with a laugh. Peter moved forward a little more, almost imperceptibly, to meet her as well -- close enough that he could probably kiss her now, if he were so inclined, but that would be too simple. Too commonplace. The wager, he thought, would make things more interesting.

"What is it that you'd want, Princess?" he asked smoothly.

Her lips parted a little. Oh, the temptation to give him the briefest taste of the kiss of a Barsoomian princess was altogether too tempting. But she held back, tilting her head a little as she thought of her reward.

"If I win," Dejah replied. "You stay - not forever, obviously. I'm not in the habit of entrapment."

Keeping close as she was, Dejah began to slowly deal the cards out, her deep blue eyes glancing up to meet his.

"I don't know when you planned on leaving but - if I win, you stay a bit longer. More than fair, don't you agree?"

Dejah picked up her cards slowly, and didn't even flinch as she saw her hand - a poor hand at that.

Stay a bit longer.

It did sound fair enough, but something about it still made Peter hesitate. Attachment was dangerous -- he had always thought as much -- and he made a habit of never staying with one person or in one place longer than a day or two. Peter was always moving, always taking on new jobs, and the idea of being tied down was more than a little worrisome.

But something in her eyes made him swallow that worry, and he believed her when she said she wasn't trying to keep him indefinitely. Eventually, he nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."

Only then did he let himself look at his cards. The hand wasn't terrible, not amazing, but it would do.

"You win either way, really," Dejah pointed out. "You get one kiss...or, you stay and have possibility of many...or more."

There's a mischievous light in her eye but she concentrates on her cards. Per the game rules she deals out two more cards to Peter, and two to herself. Better, but not ideal.

"Call," Dejah laid her cards out, squaring her shoulders, trying to remain confident despite her lackluster cards. A smirk tugged at her lips. "I've shown you mine, now you show me yours."

It was no accident that the swell of her breasts seemed to peek out from beneath her jewels as she spoke.

Peter noticed -- of course he noticed -- and his eyebrow quirked as a show of his appreciation before he laid his cards on the table as well.

"And you thought I didn't have the patience for a slow-burning tactic." With the two extra cards, his was clearly the winning hand, in spite of his losing streak earlier. He leaned his chin on his hand, propped up by his elbow, and smirks.

"I've always appreciated quality over quantity, anyway," Peter said. His free hand brushed lightly against one of hers to rest on the table. "Now, then, about that kiss?"

Dejah frowned. She wasn't exactly displeased, but she didn't like losing. But she glanced up at his touch and was smiling again. Slowly she rose, stepping towards him.

She crossed to his side of the table, leaning down a bit. Her knee slid snugly between his, and her hands came to rest on the back of his chair to steady herself as she leaned. Dejah brought her lips close, she could feel the intoxicating heat pf his breath. One hand came over, her fingers sliding across his cheek, along his jaw, to the ridge of his lower lip. Her index finger lay over her lips, as if shushing him.

"You said I owed you a kiss, come to think of it," Dejah ran her tongue over her lower lip. "You never did say when."

Not that she was planning on making him wait, but she saw no harm in making him sweat a little.

His breath hitched as she drew closer, and he reached up to put a hand at her hip to help steady her as she leaned in. He only just stopped himself from leaning eagerly into her touch as her fingers traced a line to his lips.

... And then his eyes widened as she spoke, realizing that she had a point, and he swallowed reflexively as he thought, Damn it, what a tease.

He grasped the fingers pressed against his lips and gently moved her hand aside to place it on his shoulder. With his same hand, he reached up to trace a line down the side of her neck, then up to follow the line of her jaw. His touch was light, only just barely there; his eyes were dark as he held her gaze.

"Why wait?" Peter asked, and he tilted his head a bit to one side and raised a brow. "Afraid you'll like it too much?"

Playing on her pride, oh he was smart. Dejah bit her lower lip a bit as her mind searched for a retort.

"Afraid? No, not for myself, anyway," She sighed. "Perhaps I worry that such a delight of Barsoom will be too intoxicating for you to handle."

That's what she said, but her own body seemed to betray her - at the teasing of his fingers, Dejah tipped her head a but, offering more of her skin to his touch. For it sent shivers running through her. But she wasn't about to let him win this particular game.

But nothing separated their lips now save for the tiniest sliver of space. Dejah kept her voice low, barely a whisper.

"So tell me, Peter Quill, are you certain you can handle me?"

The effect his touch had on her did not slip Peter's notice, and his fingers coasted down her throat, ghosted along her collar bone. Oh, she was so close, so tantalizingly close, and he could bridge the tiny gap between them at any moment and claim his prize.

But he liked this contest, wanted to make it last, and the corners of his mouth twitched a little in the beginnings of a cocky smile.

"I definitely can," he replies. He matches her volume, but his tone is playful. "And I apologize in advance if you end up begging for more."

"I'll try and keep the burning desire at bay," Dejah chuckled, the sound rumbling low and sweet from her throat.

Rather than risk being accused of being afraid again, or of going back on her word, Dejah closed what little gap remained between them. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips ghosted over his. She claimed his lower lip between both of her own. It wasn't her first kiss by any means, but she was purposfully not kissing him as deep or as passionately as she could have.

Why give everything away immediately? But still, it didn't make it any less meaningful, or that she didn't want to give him a little chaser, something to whet his appetite a bit. Her lips parted again, the briefest flash of her tongue against the ridge of his lower lip - only for Dejah to pull away slowly. Though she didn't move far.

"A satisfactory prize?" Dejah purred.

Her kiss was soft and delicate, and more or less what Peter had expected, given their teasing banter -- but that didn't make it any less enjoyable. By the time he moved to deepen the kiss, to part his lips by way of invitation, she had already pulled away.

Damn it, Peter thought again. He felt like his skin had flushed, and he had the sudden realization that the princess had definitely won their new game.

And so he rewarded her victory, and rather than respond to her teasing through words, he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed another kiss to her lips. His kiss was gentle but insistent, and his hands were pressed only lightly against her cheek and hip, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to.

Dejah leaned into him a bit more at the second kiss. She met his insistence with her own, tipping her cheek more to his touch to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted slowly again.

His heat seemed very different than the heat of Barsoom. It seemed to draw heat forth from her, making her cheeks flush. Dejah didn't want to admit that her knees were growing weak. She adjusted her arms a bit, bringing one hand up to slide along his jaw and into his hair. As she did this, Dejah rested on knee on an empty section of his chair. She leaned over him a bit - not quite settling into his lap, but close.

It occurred to Dejah that she was enjoying this a bit too much. But in this moment, she didn't care. She just succumbed to the feeling, and made no effort to pull away.

He put a hand at the small of her back, and a slight pressure there acted as an invitation for her to rest on his lap.

When her lips parted, his tongue darted in, brushing experimentally against her lower lip. The scent of her, the taste of her was intoxicating, as she had warned, and it felt like the warmth of her skin was flowing into him at every point of contact. Unconsciously he tilted his head back, enjoying the feeling of her hand there, and he responded in kind by moving his hand to the back of her neck, twining the dark strands of her hair around his fingers.

The truth was, he had wanted this all day, ever since he had first set eyes upon her. And oh, this was even better than he had fantasized.

The softest sound of approval came from Dejah at the feeling of his hand on her back and at her neck. His touch coaxed her to lean her body more into his. She held off on moving completely into his lap just yet - not wanting to give him too much power here.

She was only too eager to accept his tongue's entrance. Dejah's own tongue slipped out to meet his, hot and soft and wet. First she was content to just slide her tongue alongside his, but then her movements turned more teasing, looping slow spirals around the tip of his tongue.

Unable to fight the temptation anymore, Dejah moved slowly and carefully, her other knee settled on the other side of him, straddling his lap as she continued to kiss him.

For an agonizing second, he thought that she may just kill him with her tongue alone with the way she was teasing him, though the tightening of his hand on her hip was the only indicator of his frustration. All was forgiven when he felt her weight settle on his lap, and he hummed quietly, pleased.

Peter's thumb brushed lightly against her hip, tracing small designs there. He could feel liquid heat pooling in his core, and he deepened the kiss greedily, hungrily -- but only for a brief moment.

Too soon even for his own tastes, he pulled away. He freed the hand woven into her hair and tucked any errant strands behind her ear. Peter grinned deviously, and his despite the huskiness of his voice, his playful tone remained.

"That was more along the lines of what I had hoped for, actually."

Dejah chuckled, half tempted to steal another brief kiss in their proximity. But she remained parted from him, though she enjoyed the feeling of being settled in his lap. There's a similar warmth that runs through her. The hand in his hair slides down, along his pulse and to his chest.

"Ahh, I see," she nodded, smiling teasingly. "I'll have to keep that in mind for any future wagers during your stay."

Dejah's feet slipped backwards, finding the floor again as she pulled away, her hand lingering at his chest, the last thing to move away.

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