the hate sex meme

[easycompany]

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!

 

 

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[wipeitout]

[Up for some truly epic hate sex with a certain mercenary?]

[slaegr]

[ Oh, always! ]

[wipeitout]

[Natasha happened to be very deep undercover in Moscow, Russia. This was the careful culmination of a couple of month's worth of work. There were rumors that one of the patrons who frequented this high class strip club had some very unsavory connections and was smuggling in some highly advanced, highly dangerous weapons.

Everything was top-dollar here, from the liquor to the women. It hadn't taken very long for Natasha to establish herself as the 'favorite'. She was very good at what she did. Even if it meant wrapping her legs around a pole and stripping night after night. She had a certain way of undulating her body and sending sultry looks from beneath red bangs that just drove the male clients crazy.

The music pumped loudly from the speakers around the room, fueling the single dancer on the stage. The culmination of her act had the red-head sliding easily down the pole, back braced against it and hands above her head to keep her balance as she began to roll her hips in slow, fluid motions, moving to straighten back out only a moment after she was down. Keeping a hand on the cool metal she circled it, wrapping a long, slender leg around it and sliding down to rut against the pole before licking her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue, sending a near by patron a sultry grin, earning extra singles sent her way.

Of course she had spotted him in the audience. She would have made a poor spy in she hadn't. There was no possible way he wouldn't recognize her and for a few moments she feared her cover would be blown. What the hell was he doing here anyway? He wasn't even supposed to be on this realm, let alone in Moscow!

Gritting her teeth, she exited the stage. Loki was a wildcard she could never have anticipated being thrown her way. She had to talk to him.

Making her way through the crowd, still scantily dressed, she made a beeline towards him. Ignoring the leering gazes of men around her, she leans over him - purposely giving him a spectacular view of her cleavage - and whispers in his ear]

Would you like a lap dance? There are private rooms in the back.

[Just business as usual as far as anyone else was concerned, but the two of them knew this was going to lead to a confrontation]

[slaegr]

[ No-one seemed to have put any real thought into the fact that where Loki wasn't supposed to be was inevitably where Loki was most likely to appear. It was a problem that had followed him since his early childhood. The halls and corridors of Glaðsheim were filled with endless opportunities for mischief, not because of where we was allowed to roam, but because of the chambers from which he was restricted. Now, in his later life, it isn't chambers so much as entire realms, and in spite of his most recent humiliation at the hands of the Midgardians ...

Well. There was no harm in taking a little inventory. Midgard had withstood his first assault, but so long as it remained precious to the simple mind of Thor? So it would remain high up on his own list of ways to pulverize his heart. It pays to keep an eye that which an enemy holds dear, after all.

Agent Romanoff, though, was a variable he hadn't been expecting, but not one he couldn't find a use for if he played his hand well enough. While he'd been planning on leaving a few little surprises for S.H.I.E.L.D (it wouldn't do to let them grow too comfortable) he hadn't intended to make any direct contact, but in Moscow, with talk a red-headed spider under the breaths of the lecherous Russian elite ...

Another of those "opportunities for mischief".

Talking his way into the club had been desperately easy, even by his standards. He'd dressed smartly, head-to-toe black, in a suit that must have been cut to his figure, although whether or not that was a good thing would be at the viewer's discretion. Captivity, it seems, hadn’t been kind to the Trickster, leaving far less of him to fill his clothes than Natasha might remember. His eyes were no less sharp, though, and no less blue behind a curtain of shoulder-length black, and when thin lips quirked into a smile the bitter bite was very much there.

Loki found her performance interesting—certainly arousing, although Natasha would never have any problems in that respect—but when she'd noticed him he'd half expected her to pull a gun from beneath one of her straps. Instead, though, she'd approached him swiftly, and her breath was warm in his ear. ]

Oh?

[ But "Pretense" was his middle name. Loki drank down the envy of their surrounding patrons and lifted a fingertip to touch her chin. ]

Now, what sane man would accept an offer to follow a black widow into her lair?

[ His words were whispered, smooth as smoke, touching her ears and hers alone. If she couldn't see Loki's smirk she would surely be able to feel it; ]

... Do lead the way.

[wipeitout]

[In some ways, Loki was no different from the multitudes of other dangerous men she had tangled with in her lifetime. He certainly had an ego of epic proportions, even despite being beaten down by the Avengers once already. In other ways, he was completely different. She had seen men go mad before, but Loki was a whole different brand of crazy. Even though she was perhaps the only one who could read his intentions accurately, it wasn't a skill so much as a game of cat and mouse between the two of them. She had won once. He had underestimated her. She didn't think he would be doing that again anytime soon.

Still, she knew how to put on the perfect porcelain mask. How to give him a sultry look, a coy smile, and smoldering eyes. It was all for show. Well, mostly. She couldn't deny there was a part of her, a part she had struggled to keep buried, that responded instinctively to his dark nature. The allure of blood shed and chaos she had sworn to avoid.

She straightened and turned to look at him over her shoulder before leading the way to the secluded back rooms which were lavishly furnished. Not just with chairs, but with beds and an assortment of carnal equipment. Clearly anything could be bought here in this establishment.

By the time he entered the room, she had poured a glass of champagne and was offering it to him with an outstretched hand. Even dressed in little more then a pair of black panties, a matching bra, and a pair of bright red heels; she spoke to him as if they were discussing the weather. Comfortable and calm]

You're a long way from home, Loki.

[And it looked like his stay in Asgard hadn't been comfortable. She could tell something had been done to him. Had they locked him up? Tortured him? Thor had been a bit vague about what would happened to him once he returned to Asgard.

She wouldn't ask what he was doing here. That would imply it bothered her that he was here at all. She couldn't afford to lay all her cards on the table]

I trust you enjoyed the show?