bakerstreet | The Midfuck Meme

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The Midfuck Meme

MIDFUCK MEME

♋Respond with your character(s) and put their name and canon in the subject bar. (You can make blank comments with < ! >. Remove the spaces).
♋ Respond to other character(s) with your own as if you are right in the middle of having sex. How did it happen? Who started it? Who is topping who? All that matters is they are in the middle of it.
♋ Want to add some direction and maybe a little kink? Take a spin on the Random Number Generator to give yourself a location. (Change the max from 100 to "10").
♋ Have fun threading out hot sex. Maybe they'll want another go, afterward.~

1. Between These Sheets
It's traditional and cliche, but we all know that beds in these kind of situations can come in handy.~

2. Sex On the Beach
Hot sand, cool water, sunrise or sunset, all you know if you don't care where you might be getting dirty as long as it's fun.

3. On Wheels
Car in a parking lot, truck on the road, motorcycle on the side of the highway, maybe even in the back of a carriage on your way home from the ball. Have fun smutting it up when you should be on the road.

4. There's More Than Hot Water Here
You're pressed against the wall of the shower, clinging to the sides of that bathtub, or maybe even holding on the stairs of that indoor pool. Too bad you'll have to get clean all over again.

5. My Body Is Your Bread
Crucifixes, altars, and confessionals, but this isn't the kind of worship you had in mind. Or is it?

6. Getting Creative With Furniture
Who said beds are the only nice furniture in the house? Couches, walls, tables, desks, any space can fit your needs for the moment. And don't forget the office, too. Just make sure your coworkers don't hear you.

7. Try This On For Size
You're in the changing room, but you're not trying on those clothes when you have enough to take off. Maybe that outfit did really make you look good enough to eat.

8. Shhhhhh, this Is the Good Part
It's dark and the only light is from the silver screen. But you're not paying attention to it so much as the person your came with--or met when you got there.

9. A Quickie Behind the Tree
A private place? Who needs one when you have a forest, or a park, or even an alley right there beside that building. You're outside and you don't care who could walk by.

10. We Have Ways of Making You Scream.
Dark, damp, and maybe even a little musty, but this dungeon is full of surprises. Those chains and whips could come in handy

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[As Rose's arms stretch down, Dave's lips twitch into a little smirk. He doesn't respond; he turns his mouth against the inside of her arm and--]

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

[His tongue buzzes behind his teeth until she catches a sweet spot and the sound peters out in what he barely stops from being a gasp. The whole expanse of his body is covered in a mess of goosebumps and hairs on end, which isn't particularly noticeable unless she touches his arms...

Hm. Leg on his shoulder.

His palm comes to rest right against her pelvis, the base of his wrist just a little bit too high to be any good. Dave leaves it there like he's forgot about it, because his other hand is clenching the outside of her thigh and he barely has to turn to get his mouth against her, leaving a trail of wet, but impossibly careful kisses up as far as he can reach.]

[ooc: That's alright! Don't worry about it! xD It always gets fast when the plot comes out, and these past few months have been really plot heavy. Don't worry about it!

I have no problem with running ideas through. A teacher/student romance could easily work, since Tohko wouldn't mind if she actually did like the guy, but I'm all for fun AU's and plot encounters!]

[The way Natalie bucks up under him, how her thighs go hard around his hips and her breath breaks against his cheek is all an anchor that drags his libido over the edge. She's goddamn beautiful and though Michael has the urge to stop and just watch her come undone he's going under with her, his hips crashing against her in a rough, staccato rhythm that's all fuck and no finesse.

How's a man supposed to have finesse at a time like this?

He gasps for air against the soft spot behind her air like he's drowning, and for a moment as he comes, that's exactly how Michael feels. Everything in him just gives up; the release is warm and loose and there's nothing to do but let it happen. His body stills but christ, he can feel the slide of Natalie's orgasm slicking down where their skin touches and he wants to take her apart further, he wants to clean her off with his tongue.

Instead, for the moment, he presses a kiss to her bare collarbone. One thing at a time. She hasn't even given him her real name yet and he's not that easy.]

[ The noise Natasha makes next, after a long beat of silence and breathing, is that laugh again; the hand at the counter slowly (stiffly) letting go so she can thread her fingers through his. It's a little sentimental, but she thinks it fits the picture — warm and lazy in the afterglow of sex in a kitchen that looks half-wrecked, thanks to the clumsily assembled spicerack. It's the kind of laugh that's satisfied, if not happy — it's the kind of laugh that's a little low, a little wrecked. ]

Ten out of ten, I think. [ It takes her a little while to remember how to speak, her chest flushed and lips swollen, breaths coming uneven. She doesn't try to sit up, but she shifts her legs a little, her hand lifting to trail wet-slick fingers down his spine. Natasha (and Natalie, and Michael, and them both) know better than to try and make this into something intimate, but that doesn't mean it doesn't surprise her, that strange, languid and relaxed feeling. (Just because she's working an angle doesn't mean she can't enjoy it.)

A playful kind of hum, and she taps her fingers against the knob of his spine. ]

Earth to Michael?

[Both physically and mentally, he felt her climax, the overwhelming rush of feeling pushing him over the edge as well. As she tightened around him, her body shuddering, every sensation was hotter, wetter, tighter, and he managed to thrust once - twice more before burying himself to the hilt, his forehead hitting her shoulder and his breath puffing hot against her neck as he came hard inside of her.]

[They both know better than to make it something intimate, but Michael is better at intimate than he is at casual. Oh, it never makes a difference in the end because he's even better at protecting himself than he is at intimacy, but for the moment he folds his fingers around hers and lets himself feel the way her satisfied laugh trembles through his chest and how her other hand counts the pieces of his spine.]

Mmm.

[He presses his mouth to Natalie's shoulder. There is no particularly pressing want to move except for knowing that outside the drive of sex that the position is going to get uncomfortable for her before it bothers him. He takes a slow, deep breath in before moving just enough to get himself propped up on an elbow.] I'm considering an eleven, but you owe me a spice rack.

[Nyota moaned as she felt him grip her tight. Simply knowing he'd utterly lost control of himself sent a shiver up her spine. If she weren't already trembling through the last lingering post-orgasm spasms of her orgasm she might had reached her peak all over again.

Afterwards, panting and with their clothing in utter disarray, she somehow managed to drop her legs from his waist. How she was able to hold herself up was beyond her, she was leaning heavily against the metal wall of the left behind her. Unwilling to get dressed or disengage their bodies just yet]

Wow, that was....

[Hot. Unplanned. Spontaneous...]

Amazing.

[And Addie is happy to be pressed right against him as they ride out their orgasms together. As they finish, she sucks in some breath and runs her hand into his hair.]

Oh God, Will... You're always so incredible.

[ Natasha's a quick study, and even quicker at the recovery — so she has enough energy to swat at his shoulder, the touch at his back turning from lazy to energetic in the blink of an eye. ]

I refuse to take responsibility, [ she tells him, her thumb brushing against the spot at his shoulder, like she's apologizing with her body rather than her words. When she cranes her neck, arching her back again if only to take in the mess of the kitchen (if with an upside-down view of it), she huffs out another laugh. ]

I think I found your oregano too.

[As the last shocks of pleasure coursed through him, he let her down, leaning heavily against the wall of the lift for support even as his arms slid around her waist, unwilling to let her move too far from him. He felt unsteady, as though his legs might give way beneath him, but they didn't.

He was still reeling from the intensity of his release, the lights in the lift suddenly seeming all too bright around them. Blindly, he pulled back just enough to seek out her lips, wishing they had the luxury to simply lie in each other's arms for the remainder of the night; this closeness was not something he wanted to give up.]

Affirmative.

[It was the only answer he could muster, still too raw for much else. As he kissed her, though, he felt the corners of his mouth tug up into a smile - tiny by human standards, but paramount for a Vulcan.]

[Along with enough spooled wiring to run a homemade generator... or blow out a garage door. In Michael's case it had been the latter. And then some.]

I bet you're great at word searches. Maybe even crosswords. [It's shoptalk and he wants to see how she'll play it. Maybe it's crass, considering that he's still inside of her and still more than half-hard, but crosswords and covert ops go hand and hand and people tend to be vulnerable right after a mind-blowing orgasm. You use what tools you have. Maybe she'll admit something-- it doesn't need to be verbal. There's a lot of communication between them right now that has nothing to do with words.

He presses his mouth to her chest as it's presented to him, her ribs making light lines across fair skin. His teeth trace one lightly from sternum to armpit before he bites her gently, with a smile.]

[ This time her laugh sounds more like a scoff; the short, enjoyable hum turns into a laugh that sounds more like a giggle. It's not that she's self-conscious in the aftermath of sex, and neither is she actually ticklish — it's one of those responses that are designed but not catalogued as she swats his shoulder again, this time a light push following it. (There's something domestic about it, a kind of behave, you sasquatch. Like there might be something fond about it.)

In a way that's not exactly friendly (but not unfriendly, considering how they're lying, considering what they've just done): ]

You could just be direct and ask me for my name.

[Uhura let that kiss linger. It was tender and soft, exactly what she needed to come down from the high of rough sex up against the wall of the turbolift. More than that, it was every bit as intimate as what they had just done.

Also, she caught that smile. It made her heart soar just knowing he was happy and content.

Loathe as she was to break contact with him, she had to pull away and grab the panties she had discarded earlier. Sliding them on and back in place, she smoothed the skirt of her dress as best she could. None too soon either as the lift suddenly surged onward towards the bridge, alerting them with the familiar sound of the machine whirling to life]

Commander.

[There might have been a sly tilt of her lips as she addressed him]

It appears your calculations were correct.

I did already; if you recall, you lied.

[Michael kisses the heavy side of her breast, ignoring the sounds and the swats as only someone returning those domestic kindnesses would. He presses his nose to her skin. Even now she smells good and he realizes that it's not just the sex he's enjoying with her.

He looks up from his position, meeting her eyes over the swell of a breast without raising his lips from her skin.] But since you do owe me for the spice rack...

[ She responds in kind, her hand shifting up until her fingers lace through his hair. It's not fondness that fuels it, though it could be read that way; Natasha's good at lying, verbally and bodily, and there's a lull here that she's taking advantage of.

But that doesn't mean she's not prepared to be honest, either. (A little bit of give and take never hurt anybody.) She hums lightly, fingers splayed at the nape of his neck. ]

Natasha. [ For good measure, she adds, after a beat: ] Romanoff. I'm sure you could have guessed that if you wanted to.

[Loath as he was to let her go, the jolt of the lift reactivating was enough to bring him back to himself. He stepped back, his stance straightening to attention as he deftly tucked himself back into his pants and straightened his uniform with practiced ease. When he turned to face the lift door beside Nyota, his expression was one of smug satisfaction.]

I am afraid I must disagree, Lieutenant. [His gaze slid sideways as he scolded her, his kiss bruised lips barely concealing a smirk.] We would be remiss to make such a claim without first gathering more empirical data.

[Dark eyes held a silent promise that this would happen again when he turned suddenly, stepping in front of her to steal on final kiss before falling back in line - and just in time, too, for only seconds later, the lift doors slid smoothly open.

He never did realize that he had forgotten to fix his hair.]

[He could have guessed it, yes, but having it confirmed both makes it better and worse. Before, Natalie-- Natasha-- could have been touching him like a spy.

Now she could be touching him like the "Black Widow."

At least the sex was spectacular, said the dead man to no one, ever.

Not that Michael didn't have a little physical leverage on her, with her lower back angled against the counter lip and her arm up, fingers twined in his. Messy thoughts for such a sweet moment, but when you're a spy, you learn that messy is sometimes synonymous with smart. A certain amount of paranoia can be healthy, even life-lengthening. The trick is to control the paranoia and not the other way around.]

I'm hoping this is just a social visit-- [It's said with all good will and half a cocked smile. Michael's lips ghost over Natasha's nipple as he raises his head.] --and not a 'the sex was great but I'm going to have to kill you now' visit. I really don't like those kind; never end well. Upholstery always gets ruined.

Mm. [ She makes another short hum, arching into the touch of his mouth. It's a wholly satisfied kind of sound; if she feels like she's vulnerable here, like this, or in danger (and part of her is; part of her always is, but sometimes Natasha doesn't mind it), she doesn't say a word.

She tugs a little at his hair. Not rough, this time, or climax-desperate — instead it's like a rough little nudge so that she can look at him properly.

There's nothing wholly spy about it. (And if there is, it's expertly hidden.) Natasha arches a brow at him, her expression half-amused. ]

I'm not going to talk buisness if you're preparing yourself for round two.

[Michael looks up at the tug, the slight pressure keeping his mouth from re-finding skin and giving a brief, considering pause to all of the proceedings.] Is that a choice that you honestly want me to make? A lot of people will tell you I'm a business-before-pleasure kind of guy. [And that's actually the truth, not just an excuse to try to get her to talk under the influence of sex. He'll stop to talk shop.

Michael turns his head far enough to kiss the inside of the elbow attached to the hand in his hair.]

My job? Ha! Is that it? You want me to work your cock, Kurosaki?

[Ggio keeps pushing, keeps taunting even though it is evident that Ichigo working a finger into him is taking its toll. He squeezes sweetly around that finger, sucking Ichigo in all greedy and impatient. He moves in close again, hooking both hands around the back of Ichigo's neck to better slide his cock against Ichigo's, almost rubbing the entire length of his torso against him as he rocks up, down.

Letting his movements speak for himself. He does cry, but far from the broken sobs Ichigo expects (and could get, who knows, if he has that kind of tenacity in him), the noises Ggio makes are soft. Breathy. And he hisses as he grinds up, sighs as he grinds down, almost able to feel that cock stretching and stuffing him as he slides along him.]

Ah...

[Even though his body is still singing with pleasure, he manages to huff out a small laugh.]

It's one of the reasons you love me, I know.

[Teasing.]

You telling me you don't want me in your ass?

[He refuses to be pushed around, even now, no matter how sassy or arrogant Ggio gets. No, he's going to keep fighting himself, and pleasing Ggio, too, so he's forced to remember that he's worth it. Because he is worth it, dammit, and he's going to make Ggio remember this damn fondly when it's over if he has any say in it. From the way that Ggio is grinding, undulating, it's working, too, and he shivers as Ggio's chest rubs against his.

Those noises, too, are a clear sign that he's doing things right. He keeps rubbing, pressing. Digging his finger in against that hole and tries to push in harder, further, to give him more to enjoy and be stressed by. And he can't help thinking that he wants to be in there, too, wants to fill that little hole, feel how it squeezes down on his cock, because he knows it will feel fucking amazing.

He leans in again, sucking at his ear, biting it. He needs to keep his mouth busy before he says anything more, says anything he'll regret. And he doesn't want to moan too loud, give Ggio to feel smug with. Not yet. Not here.]

A soft growl accompanied the motion in absence of the ability to curse any more. He was getting close now, beyond any hope he might have had of gaining the upper hand. His other hand, which had been left clinging to the edge of the altar simply to keep himself from sliding off, abandoned the lifeline and trailed over Zepar's chest. Maybe it was a little bit of revenge that made him graze a thumb over a nipple and pinch hard as he moved into the other man's touch.

He wanted to kill Rikio badly now. Just kick him out the window and let HOMRA find him naked and with a hard on and spread nasty rumors about him. He was in so much shit once Yata came! But first Yata had to come first... not that it was going to be all that hard once Kamamoto actually got to work. And when he did it was such a huge relief. He could have just come right there.

But damn... Kamamoto could fuck the hell out of him like no one else. Not that there... was anyone else, really.

"S... shut up..." He grunted, feeling the rhythm, panting heavily and looking down to stroke his cock now. He still dug his fingers into those wrists to teach him a lesson about teasing him that badly, but holy shit. "And just do it!" He fought his way through and slammed himself down on that cock!

Bad idea... that actually hurt. But he groaned and shivered like a real whore now.

[ Her expression shutters into something a little doubtful, though that's only because current evidence goes against that. (Definitely pleasure before buisness, this time around. It doesn't mean Natasha doesn't get it. You sort out buisness first, you make sure you don't get stabbed between the ribs.) ]

C'mon. [ Mind made up — unless, of course, he has some pressing evidence to present — she lightly taps his back with her fingers. ] We'll make sure we're trying not to kill each other before spending the day in your bed.

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