bakerstreet | Hello, nerds. It's Mid-Fuck Friday.

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[warning] sex

Hello, nerds. It's Mid-Fuck Friday.

Are you tired of building up to the act? Do you sometimes wish for a chance to skip the conversation and go straight for the scenario you've always wanted to experience?

In that case, rejoice! This meme was made for you.

THE RULES:

Post with your character in the middle of having sex.
Any scenario and level of description is allowed!
Other characters reply as your character's partner in that fuck!
Keep going and finish the act.
Go for another round or have fun with cuddling and afterplay.
Have fun!

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He laughed hoarsely, taking her hand, and reached down with his free hand to grab the waistband of his jeans, tugging them up as he let himself be pulled to his feet. He didn't do them up (that would be far too difficult one-handed) - just held them in place as he headed for the door, smirking.

"You're a terrible influence," he told her brightly. "I resent that. It's my job."

Lucky Bert, she was willing to help him with his clothes if only because two freshly fucked and half naked teenagers were bound to draw too much attention. It'd sort of get in the way of the little staycation idea she was working off of.

"When I want to be, yes." After dealing with his jeans and fixing her dress to some degree she looped her arm with his, giving absolutely no thought to the smell of sex and the vague disarray they were leaving behind.

"It's your job to be a damn good shot and stupidly attractive."

"And hilarious." He tugged his shirt on carelessly, leaving the neck open, and followed her to the door. "Don't forget hilarious. Though it's good to know you're picking up on my other best traits." Taking her arm, he winked at her. "I try."

He knew where her room was, of course, and headed for it with a spring in his step.

"It's better if you continue to think that I never knew about them at all." Cuthbert was an incredibly talented gunslinger and a worthy man in his own right! But she hardly needed to deal with his arrogance anymore than usual, and therefore Nariko preferred to give him shit instead of compliments. But that was, and always would be, their endless back and forth, it was only broken by occasions like this, where she might as well be temporarily in love with him.

She talked his ear off as they went, going on about the various happenings in Kyrat, how they were all warming up to the idea of her marriage. By the time they'd made it to her door she had moved on to gossip, recounting drunken stories even as she closed them into her private space.

"Anaya asked if you were single, by the way."

Bert had been uncharacteristically quiet for a time. Talking about her marriage made him uncomfortable, for obvious reasons, and that discomfort lingered enough to make it difficult for him to be as loudly tongue-in-cheek about gossip as he ordinarily would be. At that last part, though, he laughed, moving in towards her as the door closed behind them. One hand drifted down to her ass, almost possessively.

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her that if she knew what was best for her she would look elsewhere."

She curled her fingers into his poor shirt, gripping it a little tighter than it really deserved. It hadn't done a thing, and it had no bearing on Bert's obnoxious good looks, which earned him more than enough attention among her people. After all, Kyrati women weren't expected to be prim and buttoned in the way Gilead's noblewomen were, they felt no need to hide their interest. Nariko was proud of that, but she could also be unforgivably territorial.

"In hindsight it may not have been the best response. But it felt good."

Bert laughed, dipping his head to kiss the line of her jaw, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin. "What's the matter," he teased, smirking, "jealous?"

It would be nice, he thought, if she was. It would make this... something. Something more than transgression and fucking.

"Would it be so terrible if I was?"

She seemed to be taking her time with his clothing now, it made for a good excuse to avoid his gaze and what might lay there if she dared to look at him. Her fingers worked at his buttons slowly and before she could let herself become enamored with the whole thing the doubt set in, an inevitable curse lodged between them.

"Of course I did see you eyeing that kitchen girl before I left and I almost don't blame you, I swear she's nearly three sizes smaller than me!"

It was just messing around for him, wasn't it? And that was fine, she could swallow that bitterness every single time, and had for a long while now. Sometimes her eyes just watered a little as she did it, that was all.

He pulled back a little, frowning slightly. "...Shit," he said at last, and whistled. "Shit, you actually are jealous, aren't you?"

Truth be told, it hadn't occurred to him that she would be. He might have an impressively-sized ego, but it had odd limitations, and the truth was, he didn't expect people to be possessive of him. In his experience, it usually went the other way around. He was self-aware enough to know that: usually, he was the one demanding someone's sole attention, at least in part because nobody ever seemed to want to give it to him. The idea that someone might want his sole attention, on the other hand, was a new one on him.

Honestly, it was quite a touching one. He got a little misty-eyed himself, and only partly because he was mocking her. "You've got better tits than her," he assured Nariko at last, with his usual cocky grin, and put his arm around her waist. "Better mouth, too."

There was an awful moment where she braced for his reaction. They had never set out guidelines or rules and, really, she half assumed that Roland knew exactly what they were doing because he was far from stupid and she was not the most subtle woman. It had only been a here and there thing, an undeniable need to flirt with a man that could be as infuriating as he was engaging, and yet somehow she'd grown attached to this asshole.

So when he didn't make it a big deal one way or the other it was an incredible relief. Nariko had no idea how to deal with whatever they might have and she didn't want to figure it out right away, either.

"Mine are better than most women's so that's kind of a lazy response, isn't it? Nothing about my hair or my skin or how I'll let you fuck me up the ass or something?" She could lean on humor just as much as Bert, and maybe that was why they got along so well.

"Oh, is that how we're playing?" He shook off the last traces of his melancholy, pulling her in close. "Alright. Better hair, better skin, better, mmm... better neck." This was accompanied by a long, open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck. "Better eyes. Better jokes. Better ass." That, of course, came with a squeeze to the ass in question, and a grin. "Better smile. Better instincts. How'm I doing?"

"Okay, okay, you can stop now! If I think you're being genuine I'm going to throw myself out the window!" And that was a dramatization on multiple fronts. She didn't think he was being cheeky with her (or rather, not anymore than usual) and she certainly wasn't going to fling herself out a window. "... But you did very well."

Well enough that he'd earned yet another kiss, this one far more slower and appreciative of his lips, his tongue, of every part of him. They weren't going to have an incredibly detailed conversation about it, they didn't need to when she could say it all with one little act that continued even as she pulled them back towards her bed.

He laughed again, muffled up against her mouth, and gladly let himself be drawn back, pulling at her dress as they went. He might not be fully recovered from the last round yet (although he was young and fit, and aye, he was getting there), but that didn't mean he wasn't enthusiastic about going again. Especially when she was kissing him like that, long and slow and gentle, and gods, it felt good.

There was no need to rush, she'd meant it when she asked him to blow off the rest of the day and laze around with her, and that clearly involved spending a lot of time in her bed, whether they fucked or not. Nariko stepped out of her skirts and small clothes, happy to fling them as far away as possible and do the same to him. By the time they made it to the edge she was all smiles again, pulling him down with her again.

"... You should come with me next time."

To her credit Nariko did her best to make it sound like a conversational idea, one that wouldn't risk outing whatever they had.

"Hm?" He raised his eyebrows, rolling over a little so he could lie on his side and look at her, one leg looped over her hips and one hand coming to rest casually on her breast. "You really think that's a good idea?"

Then, laughing: "Oh, gods, now I sound like Al. Good idea? Next thing I'll be saying we should be sensible and I should go to classes. Pfft. What'm I saying?"

"I bring out the responsible in you, how beautiful!" She pretended to cry, fake sniffling with something that was meant to be a bittersweet pride. She slipped out of it easily enough though, trailing her fingernails over his hip in lazy circles. "It's become more dangerous to travel such a long distance by myself. I won't inconvenience the Guardians, no one here will make the time," That was to say that Roland wouldn't or couldn't. That she hadn't settled entirely in Gilead was enough of a sore matter, but what could they expect when she'd had no idea who her betrothed would be?

"And you're skilled enough to be trusted with my 'safety'." She rolled her eyes at the last word, constantly irritated at how often her skills seemed to be underestimated.

"I can't help feeling I'm being taken advantage of here," he remarked dolefully to the air, and then laughed, turning a little to kiss her jaw. "Ah, well. I can't say I mind, if I am. Aye, if he'll trust me with you, I'll go with you gladly." And there, too, of course, Roland's name didn't need saying. They both knew perfectly well where he hung between them.

"Would there be anyone else?" She didn't realize how awful it was to say like that until the words were beyond taking back. Roland and Cuthbert might as well have been born into each others arms for how close they were and Nariko was actively threatening that. Not for the first time she wanted to ask why he entertained her at all, what could possibly lead him to wanting his ka-mate's fiancee.

And not for the first time she knew better and kept her damn mouth shut.

"Last I checked you like it when I take advantage of your and your weaknesses. Or were all those compliments about my mouth bullshit?"

"No." He was still smiling, but for a moment, there was something flinty in his eyes, something hard and angry and grief-stricken all at once. It passed quickly, as it always did, and the laughter dropped like a curtain back into his dark, dancing eyes. He rolled over, back on top of her, and brushed her hair back with his fingertips. "I'd never lie about something so important, darling."

That jokey kind of sappiness, too, had a distinct place in their relationship that was increasingly coming to the fore. It was how he ended conversations, when he couldn't talk about Roland any more and didn't want to admit the conversation had been about Roland in the first place.

There was something sad about the fact that their relationship needed a code for that.

She was quiet then, unsure of how much to say, if it was worth digging at or ... Well, it wasn't. That was, after all, his way of telling her the matter was temporarily closed and there was no use in doing anything but obeying it. She closed her eyes for a moment, tilting to kiss his chest a bit aimlessly, and then she shifted to drape herself on top of him.

"Not that I should have doubted you but, still."

Pushing her hair back and out of the way Nariko sat up as she straddled his hips, "Now, let's say we make the best of this little staycation!"

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