bakerstreet | the hate sex meme

the hate sex meme

1. Jealousy: Who are they sexting late at night? Did their gaze linger too long on your sexy neighbor? Time to confront them, show them that they are yours, that they belong with you and no one else.
2. Recently broken up: Breaking up is hard to do. The fights, the separation, the bad feelings that come with it. And sometimes lingering passions can make you have some intense reunions.
3. Long Time Enemies: Childhood rivals, competing companies, families, good vs. evil, whatever it is, you two do not get along. But hate can easily give way to a different sort of passion.
4. Taunting: You push and you push and you push, and they push back. Eventually one of you is going to snap, you can only ignore sexual tension for so long.
5. Just plain hate: You hate them. So much. And every time they look at you, you want to punch them in the face, but deep in your depraved mind you would really like to rip their clothes off and have some hot hate sex. Time to give in.
6. Wildcard: Pick from above or... got a different scenario in mind? Go crazy. Pick your own!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't know what that is, but no.

[There's a gun pressed right against your hip, but she's not taking her eyes off your face.] Probably not.

No? [it's funny how he feels right now. these pings are weird. still, it doesn't stop him from leaning in, bringing his face nearer to yours]

Are you sure you want to do that?

[Oh, she knows exactly what it is -- and the tense, twisted feeling in the pit of her stomach isn't much different, and it's unhelped by how close he is, even while she's leaning in so she's scant centimeters from his face, voice dropping low.]

Can you give me any good reason not to?

I'm not sure how... your type bargains, but I'm all to happy to comply with whatever you would like.

[he smirks, all coiled and ready, pushing very slowly and carefully, one hand sliding to the Luka's waist with no real preamble, his eyes set on hers]

Pretty close to the way your type bargains, I guess.

[She reaches up and puts a hand on his wrist, holding tight enough to try to discourage him from going for the pocket she slid the cards into. When she speaks again, it's slow and careful, and close enough that her lips brush his.] If it's worth my while, I tend to want it.

You'd be surprised, mon ami. But I am well worth your while.

[he doesn't back off even one percent, keeping that close distance before he pulls her closer against him, then, their lips meeting. He presses hard and harsh, before his teeth latch onto her lower lip, pulling already]

[She starts to complain about him saying things she doesn't understand but given the interruption, she only lets slip a noise that's almost a growl, digging her fingernails into his wrist but not pulling away. Instead she presses in flush against him, the barrel of the gun still pressed hard into his hip -- although her finger slides carefully off the trigger as she presses her mouth to his, just as rough.]

[he chuckles against her mouth, and leans into the gun, almost challenging her, before he pulls her forward against his leg, nearly purring. He might as well make this interesting, no?]

[Biting at his lip a little more sharply than is probably necessary just for laughing, giving the smallest groan as she moves instinctively against his leg, hand sliding up his arm a little to discourage him from moving away.]

[his tongue slides against her teeth then, one hand tracking up her back, the other sliding lower, pulling her against him and pressing himself against her, a soft grind. He hums as well, soft and teasing, his body relaxed as he moves against her.]

[She's more tense, but only because she's trying not to lose the upper hand -- it's harder than it seems, hips pressed against him and shifting just slightly, enough to be noticeable. The hand not wrapped around the handle of her gun slides up to take hold of a fistful of his coat, pulling back enough to yank him down some and drag teeth against his throat, biting down on the skin.]

[now that is the nicer part, and he groans, before he can catch himself. Interesting. He breathes hard, grasping her hips and pushing forward so they at least end up against a wall for support]

[She moans against the curve of his jaw and close to his ear as soon as her back hits the wall, breath hitching as she pulls at his coat and straightens a little between it and the line of his body. It's not enough, somehow, and she gives a frustrated little huff as she pulls the gun from between them, using that hand to pull him harder against her.]

[The low chuckle he makes as his hips are pulled forward is almost inaudible, but it's definitely there, dark, and intent. Pulling one hand away from her, he loosens his collar to let his coat fall open, black military-like trappings underneath, but a little less cloth between them nevertheless. He nudges his face to her neck, biting in with unabashed eagerness]

[She swallows a groan and swears softly, tipping her head to give him better access without any thought. There is all of a second's pause, just enough to shiver against him, before she moves her hand up to tangle in his hair, the other pressing against his side beneath that coat, trying to find some opening somewhere to try to get to skin.]

[I think it's a pant and shirt but don't quote me on that]

[Shrugging off his coat, the garment pools at their feet and is pushed away--with care, at least, but he drifts back to Luka, his hands sliding up her sides and back down, thumbs slipping underneath her top]

[Pressing into the touch of his hands, skin flushed and warm and breathing uneven and a little more heavy than she would probably like in spite of herself. Her own hand slides carefully under the hem of his shirt, pressing against the line of his ribs and dragging nails across the skin.]

Didn't -- didn't even get your name.

Do you need it? [he's only curious, not defensive.]

[her shirt comes up with his thumbs, as they ride upwards and he inhales sharply at the bite of her nails]

Enter.

[She grins, withdrawing her hands long enough to slide her jacket off and arch off the wall to let it fall at her feet.] Only if you want me to say it.

That sounds more like a command than a name. [It's just teasing, not malicious, pressing up to bite at his throat again and run her tongue over the marks her teeth leave, fingers finding their way inside his shirt again and around to his back, wandering.]

Is that what you like? [More teasing, and he molds himself against her, another impatient thrust of his hips against hers, while he finally flips her shirt over her breasts, fingers moving to trace over her bra, light and deft. He steals a glance downward, giving a grin like the cat with the canary.]

What, people saying my name? It usually means you're doing something right, so of course -- I'm used to hearing it all the time, but I still like it.

[Grinning right back up at him, pulling one hand around front and hooking fingers over the catch of his pants. She doesn't do anything, though, just pulls gently as he moves his hips, fingernails scraping against his back.] But the more noise they make the happier I tend to be.

the hate sex meme

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