bakerstreet | one. not done.

Entry tags:

one. not done.

( reverse ) one-line smut meme

Silence is golden - words are priceless. So that means dirty talk is incredibly valuable.

( how to play )

Leave a top-level, either blank or with prefs.
Reply to others...with one line only. All other comments can be as meaty or sparse as you'd like, but the rule is that the starter tag must be one line (not counting ooc chatter).
Use your brimming imagination or use a few of the many prompts available to copy and paste.
Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[No underage, please.]

Hate me all you want. You can’t deny how good the sex is.

"This doesn't mean I like you."

But she knew that. Mary had to know that. Even as he pressed her back, up against a wall in the Fortress of Solitude and kissed her, she had to know that. He didn't like her. In fact he was fairly sure that she knew he hated her even as his hand slide up along the outside of her leg, feeling the soft skin and firm muscle of her shapely leg.

She had to know. Just like he knew that he wasn't going to stop at kissing her. Not when she was the one person that could give him what he really needed, physically. This wasn't about love or about affection but about lust, pure and simple. Only a fool would try and deny that she was beautiful and Clark was no fool. She was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.

But it was about more than that. It was about what she could do to him, the things she said to him, and the way that they fucked. Hard and powerful and for once in his life without holding back. It was an entirely unique experience and she new that she was the only one who could give it to him.

[Sorry for the late response!]

Previous clashes of theirs had her in a similar situation, pinned against a cratered wall by the only person on the planet strong enough to do it, with a similar smile on her face. Though now it's lacking the battle lust, or at least the battle part of it.

She smeared that smile into his lips as she opened her mouth, inviting him with rough jabs of her tongue. There were only two things that mattered to her as Superwoman and those were fighting and fucking. Her hand was flush against his back, pressing down hard as she slid over the muscles on his back, pushing him forward so her breasts threatened to spill over the top of her bustier of a suit. Flesh that's like steel to others was softly raised against his chest with each breath.

"But you like this. You like when we come together for this as much as I do."

She said it with that kind of husky glee that usually meant trouble any other time. Now it simply accompanied her fingers shamelessly cupping what she could of his package, dark smoldering eyes hungrily locked on him.

[No worries!]

“If you’re doing this with me then you’re not out hurting someone else,” he said, although it was a flimsy excuse and one that not even he believed. Because he did like this, the way her mouth pressed against him and the heat between them. It was certainly no secret to her that he liked it, not with the way he groaned as her hand found his cock, already hard and aching for her.

With a frustrated grunt one hand reached up, pulling her too down to expose those incredible breasts. His hands then gripped her firm ass, lifting her up higher so that his mouth could press suckling kisses along those wonderful tits. Clark teased her for a moment, his lips trailing in circles around her nipples before he sucked at them, teeth biting down on the hard numbs of flesh. Almost instinctively his hips rocked against her, hard cock needing to feel itself pressed against her, as if that could ever be some sort of replacement for being inside of her.

Are you going to just stare, or touch me?

Clark hadn't meant to stare. Honestly, he hadn't. It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed that Jessica was very attractive. They'd been working together on a story for some time now (although "together" was a generous term since a lot of it was Clark sharing what he knew and Jessica sharing acerbic comments) and it was impossible not to notice that she was beautiful. Spending more than five minutes with her though it was easy to see that she was more than that though. She was a heck of an investigator and, if you were persistent enough and looked deep enough, she was a good person as well. That's what Clark liked to focus on.

But when they were sitting at her kitchen table going over some notes she get up to get a beer from the fridge and bet over in a way that he couldn't help but focus on something else. She had a very, very fantastic backside. He didn't realize how much he'd been staring until she spoke up.

"Are you going to just stare, or touch me?"

"Hmmm, I'm sorry?" he said, looking up from where he was staring. "What was that?"

Because he wanted to be entire clear he had heard her correctly because... if he was being entirely honest he had entertained the idea of touching once or twice. Or more.

Working with Clark was an interesting experience. He knew a lot, shared what he knew, and didn't protest her grouchy attitude. Beside all of that, he was absolutely gorgeous, a trait she hadn't noticed in a man in some time.

So, of course she thought about fucking him.

The case came first, but when the day was done and they were merely looking over some shared notes, she noticed Clark staring at her ass as she went to grab a beer from the fridge. Yeah, he wasn't aware he was doing it, which made it all the more endearing. Not... that she was thinking of him in that way. The thought merely came up out of no where. Yeah.

"You heard me," she replied, a small smile on her lips. "We've been working all day. Unless you don't want it, I think we've earned a break," and then, stepping back over toward the table, she put the beer down and sat on the table. "I want you to touch me."

"Well, I..." Clark pushed his glasses up a bit higher on his face, unsure of how to response. She wasn't reading the situation wrong and there had definitely been something between them, even if the sparks seemed to be from clashing personality types more than anything. Or maybe he'd just told himself that so he didn't have to think about the attraction he'd been filling.

"You're certainly not... wrong in your assessment," he said, standing up and moving over to where she sat on the table, leaning in a bit so that he was gently pressing himself to move between her legs, hands trailing down to trace along the top of her jeans. He almost couldn't believe how tight they were but considering how much he'd been paying attention to them he could attest that they were certainly very smug. "And we probably do deserve to relax some..."

It was true- their personalities certainly did clash. That could also have been some of the attraction Jessica felt toward Clark. He seemed so... good, not like her in the least. She wouldn't go so far as to suggest she wanted to 'corrupt' him, but hey, whatever the hell she could get away with here would be enjoyable.

"I didn't think I was," she said, scooting over a little on the table to make room for the man between her legs. He really seemed quite fit for a journalist; must have worked out a lot on the side.

"And yeah, I think we do."

Jessica pressed her hands against Clark's chest, running them down his shirt so she could feel how his body felt beneath the cloth. Damn... not bad at all. His hands felt nice where they were too, though she definitely wanted more than that little touch. Pulling her hands back, she made quick work of her tank top, pulling it up over her head and tossing it aside.

Clark gave a small sigh that sounded a lot like a stifled moan as her hands ran along his chest. It had been a while since anyone had touched him like that and he’d missed it. Before he could even comment on how her touch felt though her hands were pulling back. His eyes went a bit wide when she pulled off her top, entirely surprised at how quickly this was moving. He shouldn’t be too surprised though, Jessica didn’t waste time when it came to anything and apparently this was no exception. Her breasts were as incredible as her ass and Clark bit his lip at the thought of his mouth on them.

Deciding to follow suit in not wasting any time he leaned forward and kissed her as soon as her shirt was off. His hands reached around and firmly gripped that incredibly ass as he easily lifted her up off the table. Clark wanted to feel her pressed against him, to feel the heat of her skin on his.

He deepened the kiss, the taste of beer on his tongue as he felt the heat build in him. If she wanted to be touched then he was more than happy to do so.

1. "The mask is staying on, the pants are coming off."

2. "Trust me, after today? You're going to get wet every time you hear 'twhip'."

3. "So. Is this a good time to mention this is not cosplay?"

4. "Amazingly, this is actually the first time I've had sex on the ceiling."

Or bring your own.

(reply from suspended user)

Why the hell wouldn't it?! You're plenty robust, you know!

[ Now is apparently the time we're having this argument. Now is the time and this moment is the shouting. It's a little existential like that. ]

(reply from suspended user)

[ . . . He gives her look as if he's not even sure how to respond to that. And then he responds in a very, very quintessentially Haruki way, ]

When have we ever needed to be delicate?!

[ ... Oh wait he should - there, a big grin to reassure her, even if he was now gripping said rather gifted appendage, readying himself to enter her. He was stroking it lightly, having already lubed it up. ]

"My mouth between your legs is the only conversation we need to have."

Loki paused at those words, reconsidering what he would say next. T'Challa wasn't interested in what he had to say about his city- namely, about the vibranium. That didn't surprise Loki, though he hoped the king would reconsider later.

For now, his eyes were bright with interest as their other 'conversation' stood front and center.

"Of course, your Majesty." Loki began stripping, choosing to do so manually rather than use his sorcery this time. He took his time revealing smooth, pale skin, while letting each article of clothing fall carelessly to the floor around him.

By the time he made it to his trousers, he was already half hard and moist. Licking his lips, he slipped out of the trousers and his underwear, revealing his stiffening cock. He had a feeling, however, that it was his cunt that T'Challa was interested in eating out just then, based on how he chose his words.

"Shall I lie down, or would you prefer me to ride your face?" Either option sounded excellent to Loki.

one. not done.

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