bakerstreet | like it's hard?

like it's hard?

guess my kink.

don't look now, but somebody slapped a button on you that reads "GUESS MY KINK." good thing Bakerstreet never backs down from any clashes of wits...and a chance to humiliate and be horny at the same time.

how do you do?
- comment with your info + prefs.
- replies will try to "match the kink to the face;" aka, they'll try and guess your character's kink/fetish.
- absolute madness reigns from here on out.
- this meme cannot be held liable for any fuckery, of the highest degree or otherwise.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What, you think you're more than I can handle? [but yes, there is a waver of nerves still in her tone, pausing her fidgeting with a buckle. yes, part of it was to expedite the process, the rest of it to keep her hand busy.]

Look, I... [a hush:] trust you.

No, it's just that I'll understand if you don't want to go through with this.

[His body might not understand, but he can deal with that.]

Good. I'm glad you do. But we're not doing anything you're not comfortable with, okay?

No, I do. God, I've thought about it enough. I just never thought, with- [the limitations of her body, that being intimate was ever really in the cards for her. and she had convinced herself that was fine, because she didn't want to deal with anyone touching her anyway. but.]

I'll let you know if I don't like anything, okay?

Okay. We'll take it slow.

[But then he's kissing her again, tugging her in against him.]

[she allows herself to be pulled in, rather than putting up that usual edge of resistance against things that she wants. pressing up against him, undressing herself is forgotten for the moment. he is so very distracting, and now she's playing with the straps and buckles on his uniform instead. a bit more fumbling, since she's less familiar with them.

honestly, with all the layers between them, this constitutes as slow...]

[It was a really stupid idea to wear his suit. He should be in something more casual, easier to remove. Then again, he didn't realize this was going to happen so fast. not that he minds.

He starts to help her with his buckles and belt and at least manages to get the upper part of the costume off. Progress!]

Well. We're definitely working for it.

[she'd complain about it more if she didn't find him absolutely devastatingly handsome in that suit despite how much she thought it made him look like some patriotic ass when they first met. the cut of it emphasizing his broad shoulders, the stripes of red across his chest... yet she appreciates the removal of it even more. her eyes roam his bare chest, and then her fingers reach out too, hesitantly at first to make sure it's okay to touch.

and she leans in to place light fluttery kisses along his jaw, still very much enjoying the prickly sensation of his beard against her face.]

Feels well worth it, though. Here. Help with mine. It comes apart at the sides. [which she has already loosened, and she reaches up to unclip the attachment of her hood so she doesn't strangle herself in the process of wrangling it all off. the chest plate is hard and bulky shell separate from her sleeves and skirted tunic, and sorry Walker but she is indeed wearing even more underneath.]

[She can touch all she likes, he's not going to stop her. His breath hitches when she kisses his jawline, his eyes closing briefly. Somehow, it doesn't feel as strange as he thought it might with someone new.]

You wear too much. Way too much.

[But she's right; it'll be worth it. He does as asked and helps remove her chest plate, setting what he can to the side.]

What next?

Have to. Better it's sturdy and keeps me safe and all in one piece, hm? [though it's not nearly as defensive the first time they commented upon her suit being such an inconvenience, tone soft and flirty as she traces a finger along his chest muscles with a quirk of her mouth.]

This whole top layer... [that she starts wriggling out of, lifting her arms if he wants to help pull it off. the sleeves take some tugging, but slide right off too with some maneuvering.

all the pieces are indeed quite stiff, with complex tech running through them. and then she's just wearing a very thin grey undershirt beneath, with a built in bra, one of those athletic compression sort of fabrics to help absorb sweat and keep her cooler and reduce the chafing.

she feels so fragile like this, stripped out of her shell. tries not to look so uncertain, assessing his gaze.]

Safe and in one piece is for the best, yeah. [He watches her face as she touches him, how her mouth quirks, and he licks his own lips wanting to taste her again.

But there’s more important matters. She wants her top off and damned if he isn’t going to do his best to help her. It takes the two of them but the suit is half conquered. He sits back and just stares at her.]

You have to know how beautiful you are.

... It's always been difficult, feeling that way. [but she's not outright disagreeing, doesn't want to make this some awkward back and forth where she's rejecting his compliment because her own confidence is very shaky in this area. it's quite unknown territory, anyone viewing her with want.] Haven't always had the best relationship with my body, you know.

[a small nervous inhale, as she reaches for his wrist, wrapping fingers delicately around it, guiding his hand toward her chest in permission for him to touch back.] But I want to. Feel beautiful. Want to feel you.

I guess you wouldn't.

[He doesn't need to be asked twice. He places his hand at her waist, then slowly draws it up her side. His thumb brushes over her clothed breast, stroking gently at the outer edge. He's waiting for her reaction before he does more.]

Tell me what you want.

To feel something other than pain... [a soft breath, trying not to shiver too badly under his gentle touch with so much repressed want. she's starved for this, but also so nervous that she's going to fall apart if she lets down her guard.

but she knows there's really only one way past her insecurities. Ava leans in to stroke appreciatively down his chest, lower, as she places a kiss to his shoulder, up his neck.] Make me yours.

I won't hurt you.

[A promise he hopes he can keep.

She's definitely nervous and so is he, but they'll figure this out together. His hands reach for the hem of her slip of a shirt and moves to take if off her.]

I should get those cuffs.

... I'm not fragile, John. Don't have to be too careful.
[and she's been in such excruciatingly constant levels of pain for most of her life, her tolerance is fairly blown at this point. she just never imagined her body being able to feel anything but

because she never imagined anyone would have the interest or patience to peel back all these layers, figuratively and very much literally as she raises her arms so he can peel the last one away. her skin is remarkably smooth, unscarred despite a lifetime in such a profession. she looks so deceptively healthy for a woman suffering, until she flickers. more from the rush of cold air against her exposed nipples.]

Yeah, probably, or this is going to be a little... tough.

[He has to get up now to get the cuffs, because if he waits much longer he won't be able to leave her. Taking the opportunity while he's up, he takes off the rest of his costume, leaving him in his underwear only. Then he's back beside her, setting the cuffs to the side for now, then turns his attention back toward her.

He draws her in for another kiss. A hand goes back to her breast, kneading the flesh gently as his mouth continues down her neck.]

[it's difficult not to protest when he does get up despite agreeing that he should, the temporary loss of contact at least satisfied by watching him strip further down. she doesn't even have to pretend that she's not looking, the way she used to steal side glances at him. now it's with rather open desire.

she wants him badly, knows where all this is meant to be heading because she might be inexperienced but she's not completely clueless. but is still so uncertain of all the steps in between to get there. she hates going into things unprepared, without a full plan. but at least she trusts John enough to follow along with his lead. for once. funny how much things have changed between them.

the kiss is sweet, the taste of him lingering on her lips as his mouth works downwards and she tilts her head back to expose more of her neck to him. she shivers, though not from the cold this time. her skin feels so overly sensitive to touch as it is, not used to direct contact at all and certainly not something as pleasant as this, the squeezing of her breast earning a bit of a surprised gasp.

she almost forgets she has hands of her own for a moment, before wrapping arms around John, fingertips exploring the broad expanse of his back, cupping at his shoulder blades. she flickers in and out again, as she loses her focus.] You're so warm... and smell so good...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

like it's hard?

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