bakerstreet | Buckle up, Mid-Fuck

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Buckle up, Mid-Fuck

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! Here are some optional prompts, if you want 'em.
Keep going and finish the act.
Go for another round or have fun with cuddling and afterplay.
Have fun!

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[Open to a thread?]

[ Very much open, absolutely. ]

It isn't every day that Yuri does something as impulsive as sleeping with someone she barely knows—but then, it isn't every day she meets someone like Joker. She'd dismissed him as just another common criminal easily enough at first, but then she'd ended up running into him again, then again, and...

Well, that led her here. Their run-ins had been brief, but he'd left her intrigued despite herself every time. He doesn't seem to be out entirely for himself or actively malicious, or anything like the enemies she usually takes on. She doesn't know who he really is, and some part of her doesn't want to know.

After all, that'd end the whole enigma.

But for now, Yuri can let her guard down and just enjoy herself without worry for once. Maybe she finally decided to let loose after the stress of the day, or it's the adrenaline still rushing in her veins after their latest cat-and-mouse game. Either way, it's turned into this.

Her skirt is hiked up around her waist as she takes her time rolling her hips back and forth, sucking in one sharp breath after another as she rocks forward on top of him. Her fingers dig into his shoulders hard enough to claw at them, her face flushed, her skin beaded with sweat.

"Mmmn..." She lets her head fall forward towards his chest, eyes dropping to where their hips meet under her skirt. Even the smallest movement gets a noise out of her, a breathy keen that's not yet a moan. "Are you feeling alright, Joker?"

He certainly never quite expected to end up entangled with his lilac shadow quite like this. It had been somewhat thrilling, leading her on a merry chase against the Phantom Thieves - and luckily, always one step ahead. Every once in a while she'd catch up close, enough for him to taunt, to tease, but always to get away.

Morgana had suggested, early on, that Joker might have been having too much fun playing with this one. That it might get him trouble. That his feelings were clouded.

Maybe he'd been right.

It's hard to complain now, though. She looks even more beautiful than normal, now, with that pink stained across her cheeks, the sweat glistening on her skin. She feels so hot, almost maddeningly so, and he groans as he arches up to meet her, his mask still in place but doing nothing to hide the pleasure on his face.

Or the smile, curving his lips as he looks down, one hand settling on the back of her neck while the other holds her hip. Encouraging her to rock against him. "More than alright, Moonlight," he murmurs in reply. "You feel astonishing."

And he pushes himself up, trying to press deeper into her, feel more. Make her feel more, too, since she's clearly enjoying things so much already.

Even the smallest touch of his hand against her hip is enough to set Yuri off, making her suck in a sharp breath as she balances against him. She tosses her head back instinctively, thrusting her hips further forward, taking him in and out.

The way he pushes back against her makes his length bump up against her clit, rubbing it in a way that wrings a louder noise out of her. Almost a cry, but not quite. She doesn't even realize her eyes are closing until they fly open, her eyelids fluttering with every jerk of her body against his.

He'll have to do a lot more if he wants to make her scream.

"Good," she sighs in response, wrapping her arm around his neck. Her lips twitch in what might be a smile. "You don't...mmm...feel bad, yourself."

She punctuates her words with a bump of her chest against his. She's wet enough to make her ride perfectly easy, the noises as he slides into her slick and obscene. And he's so hot, so heavy and good, and what she really wants is to pin him down and make him cry from ecstasy with her thighs clenched tight around his waist—

But she'll take it slow. For now.

Edited 2020-09-18 20:13 (UTC)

He certainly notices just how reactive she is. Just how much she trembles when he touches her, how she gasps so sharply when he drives his hips up. She's trying to hold back, perhaps, make him work for it, and that's fine. He wants to drive her wild.

And he wants to earn it.

Just the fact that she's almost smiling, really, says it all. More than the simple fact that she's here, that she's on top of him. That she's so wet, no less. As she wraps her arm around his neck, he lets his own hand wander, sliding over her backside, teasing between her thighs for a moment where they meet.

"No, it seems you like how I feel quite a lot," he says, nuzzling into her throat, his lips and his teeth brushing over her skin. "And it feels like you want so much more. Am I close?"

Because he did, and while he wasn't going to give that away quite so quickly, he's not too proud to admit it. He wants all he can get from her. Her pleasure, her moans, her screams.

His hips rock up again, coaxing, demanding response. No, he's not going to make this easier on her. Not at all.

Somehow, it's both frustrating and invigorating how calm he still is. It's like a struggle of sorts between them, a competition over which of them is going to lose control first. Not that she's complaining, though—a challenge is good.

As if to emphasize her thoughts, he's starting to tease her: his hand slides over her ass and between her thighs, and she bites her lip to stifle her moan before he starts nuzzling her. His lips feel surprisingly soft against the skin of her neck, his teeth barely a nip. It's pleasant to the point of soothing, a stark contrast against the insistent motions of his hips against hers.

"You're being cocky," she answers as coolly as she can, pressing her forehead against his. As close as she is, she could tear off that mask so easily—but she won't. "Don't you want me to go faster?"

She locks her fingers around his neck this time, thrusting her hips against him more quickly this time, picking up the pace until she's practically bouncing on his lap. Miraculously, all she does is gasp—she's not going to give him the satisfaction of crying out, not until he does it first.

Edited 2020-09-30 02:25 (UTC)

It only seems fair, doesn’t it, that this turns into a competition of sorts, because hasn’t that been their relationship so far? The hero and the villain, so to speak, that are constantly playing cat and mouse. She’s caught him, now – and he’d argue very firmly that only happened because he let her – and that doesn’t mean the game is going to end. Or that he’s going to come quietly.

Then again, he hopes she’s the one that doesn’t come quietly.

He only smiles in response to her words, because if he’s honest? Of course he wants her to go faster. Of course he wants more. But he can hold back, he tells himself, because seeing her lose control will be so worth it. She’s always so reserved, so restrained, and he wants to push her. Wants to see her squirm. It’s why his hands keep moving, exploring over her body, trying to see what makes her tense, ripple around him, pull in her breath sharply like she’s been stung. He wants to learn everything about her – at least here, in this.

“Maybe,” and he almost laughs, though she’s starting to quicken her pace, bounce over him, and he groans a little as he grabs her ass, pulling her down harder against him. “But you want it, too. To be fucked. Properly. To feel alive.”

After all, why else would she be here? It’s what he wants, too, and the adrenaline is pulsing in his veins, setting him to thrust up into her, to meet the bouncing of her hips, relentless.

Just the way he groans as she moves on top of him is enough to send a rush of overwhelming satisfaction through her, like it's something she's been waiting for. Even the way he keeps touching her, grabbing hold of her ass to keep her closer, can't distract her from it. She bares her teeth at him in response and presses down harder, shoving her hips forward sharply to take more of him into her.

"I think that's what you want, actually," Yuri breathes into his ear, clenching her legs together so her walls tighten and squeeze around his dick like a vice. She can't hold back her own moan then as more slick forms around her slit, making it easy for her to slide back just as quickly.

Inch by agonizing inch, she pulls back until she feels empty, pulsing and wet and hollow. She's poising herself above him, hovering teasingly away from what was inside her seconds earlier.

Then she pries her fingers apart to grab for his hair like her life depends on it, schooling her face into an expression of what could be near-perfect composure.

"I could just stop here," she says slowly, coolly. "Maybe you should ask nicely, if you don't want me to stop."

Of course, she has no intention of actually stopping—but she's not going to say so. She has to remind herself he's still her enemy, even if getting into his pants is far more enjoyable than it should be.

There's an intensity in her eyes that he's never seen before. An almost savage glint to her expression. He wonders if anyone, in fact, has seen Yuri quite like this, who normally looks so composed, so elegant, so sure of herself.

It's thrilling in its own way. Even if she's trying to turn it directly onto him.

"Can't, ah, both be true?"

He hisses softly at the tight clenching of her insides, then again as she starts to draw herself back. Slowly, almost painfully pulling herself off of him until she's hovering above, leaving him exposed to the elements. Missing her warmth. Needing it. He glares at her, eyes glittering from within his mask, his own teeth bared slightly when she holds his hair tightly.

"You could, but I think you'd regret it, too," he says, not afraid, because he can see, feel, just how wet she is. She needs this as badly as he does.

But, if it will make her feel better... "Please. Fuck me. And let me fuck you, too. Let me give you what you need."

His cock aches, and frankly, he hopes that's a workable compromise for her pride.

His glare is enough to send a pang up her spine, like a thrill from the adrenaline of a good hunt. It warms her insides and makes her thrust her hips forward against him, letting the wet tip of his shaft tease at her inner thighs. Just hearing him hiss is intensely gratifying, really.

"I think I would," Yuri concedes, tugging gently at his hair. It's soft and pleasant to touch; she could run her fingers through it all night if she wanted to. She leans forward to murmur in his ear. "But I don't plan to."

She has to marvel at how someone like Joker is able to make begging look dignified. It makes her slicker and wetter between her thighs, the arousal at her core sharp enough to make her bite her lip. And when he says that so nicely...

Well, she's only human.

Without a second to waste, she pushes her hips down and sinks back onto him, taking his length back into her as easily and wetly as if it never left. Her moan of satisfaction is long and loud as she buries herself to the hilt on him, legs spread under her skirt, ass pressed against his thighs.

"What are you waiting for?" She watches him intently with lowered eyes as she gets back to work, rolling her hips, letting herself part completely for him as she pants and groans. "Hurry up and fuck me, Joker."

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