singularityderp | KINK MEME 3.0

Yes, blame the men, boss. It's all according to plan.

Hi I’m going to utterly suck at kat, holla. forgive any grammar errorssss, no one read this over and I wrote it in one go before bed 8(

__

She wakes up like she always does when something feels off. Quick, with a breath in and a hand out, reaching for a weapon- whatever is closest, usually a smaller handgun of some sort. Behind her, there’s a quiet hum, lips pressed against the nape of her neck, fingers grazing over her stomach with affection, but no purpose. She’s gotten used to it, by now-- the way Carter wakes up before her, warm and lazy, running fingers over her stomach, never dipping down past the waistband of her pants, no matter how many times she arches her hips just a little, or tries to edge his hand down. There’s always a reason, always something.

This morning is no different-- similar to what happens every once in a while, where she shifts back against him, makes a soft noise at the fact he’s hard, she can feel it (why won’t you do anything) and Carter responds, a hand tracing down her thigh in a way that’s nowhere near intimate. It ends at her knee, and he sits up, sliding out of bed with a murmur of good morning, and he takes the far shower. On some level, she understands this morning in particular- he’s got rounds first thing in the morning, and she understands the need to hold to such things back, it’s just frustrating, beyond all reason.

The water starts running, and Kat rolls into his spot in the bed, curling herself in covers for a long moment, before she gives up, realizing that only makes it worse. A few moments of shifting and turning do little good besides make her more uncomfortable, terribly tempted to just reach her hand between her thighs and do something about it, but that’ll do just as little good as every time before that.
 No, she needs a distraction.

By the time Carter is out of the shower and dressed, the bed is neatly made, with no trace of Kat anywhere.

Thom only raises his eyebrows when he sees her at his door, loose pants and a tank-top, short hair bed-messy like she just woke up. The sour look on her face says it all, really. This early, huh, he wants to say, and bites that back, simply opening the door up, scratching at his stomach absently.

“Feel like sorting through all this mess?”

He motions to a mess of cables and wires he’s been idly working with -- UNSC tech, salvaged from the charred, broken remains of a ship they’d found in the Junkyard, thankfully quickly buried not long after they’d salvaged what they could. They didn’t need any more bitter reminders of things lost, really.

But, there’s the hope that they can get some of it working- drives, any mechanical aspects, to get a signal out, or work on using it in conjunction with the tech here, to try and find a way out of here.

By the time Thom’s sitting back down again, Kat’s already there, pushing aside a small pile of shrapnel, using needle-nose pliers to pick things out here and there, the two of them working in decently companionable silence.

“Carter on rounds?” Thom finally asks, fiddling with a large piece of metal, skimming it for any noticeable defects, putting it off to the side when it’s done. The LC looks too tense for her own good, though, giving him a sideways look that answers his question just like that, leaving him holding up his hands, palm-up, shrugging. It’s not the first time she’s come in, in the morning, frustrated and thin-lipped, but it’s productive all the same. He genuinely enjoys spending time with her, even with (maybe it’s especially with, honestly) the inane things like working on a pile of scraps, salvaging what they can.

“Since an hour ago.” Kat eyes him a moment, then the pile of scrap in her lap, before it gets deposited up and away, and she stands, dusting herself off. “Do you feel up to exercise?”

The way Thom’s face lights up is all the answer she needs-- he’s been just as bored here, at times, as she has- sparring will at least get rid of some of the tension and burn some time. “Ready when you are,” he offers as cheerfully as he dares, squeezing her shoulder once as they head out.

It starts with only the best intentions, really.

It’d started simple sparring. First to ten, determined by the first one to hit the ground each time. Not long after the third drop-down, it had started being less about pulling punches to save dents in the walls and more about letting out tension. Kat, from the situation, and Thom from sheer boredom.

It turns into Kat shoving his hands down on the mat, sweat soaking through the already thin material of her shirt, releasing him a moment later, rocking back to slide off of him, the words “three to four,” getting caught in her throat abruptly at the solid press and friction that results. The look on Thom’s face is almost comical, arms still above his head, eyes wide. He’s eternally grateful she doesn’t say anything, just finishes sliding off, offering him a hand up, her free one pushing her hair back. Three to four, she reminds herself, and lashes out when Thom throws a solid punch at her, ducking it and spinning faintly, aiming an elbow at his stomach. It continues on for a while-- Thom’s a solid fighter, and it’s a good match, but not long after he trips her up, knocking her back and slamming her against the wall. It takes next to nothing to curl her leg around his, and shove her weight at him, using the wall as a brace to push off of, realizing too late why he doesn’t look concerned by the pleased tip to her lips.

Using their momentum, he rolls them, slamming her down this time, using his weight to push at her, and somewhere between the wrestling and the struggle, Kat ends up with a hand cupped at the back of his head and he’s kissing her so hard he thinks he tastes blood, for a moment. It’s all downhill from there, he thinks fuzzily, because it’d be hard not to react to Kat’s breasts pressed against his chest, and the way she’s panting, low and sharp, rolling her hips up against his, cursing faintly under her breath. Some distracted part of him translates what she says, but the rest of him doesn’t care for the moment, half-kissing, half-wrestling for being on top.

It ends with her hand between them, cupping him through his pants and boxers, a leg braced around his thigh, giving her something to bear down on as she rolls her hips up sharply against him, swallowing the strangled noise he makes with a kiss. Thom has one hand up her shirt, palming her breasts a little gracelessly, but he takes the initiative, at least (unlike some people they know) to do something. This time, he doesn’t resist when she rolls them, settling in over him with a sharp noise, rocking her hips quick and firm over him. By the time he drags a hand down from her breasts and dips them down, under her pants and soaked panties, she’s one long line of tension, breathing sharp, cheeks flushed. He can’t even begin to get any sort of good angle, not really, but apparently work-rough fingers and a little firmness are all it takes, because soon enough she’s grappling for his shoulder and forearm, practically riding his fingers and trembling as she comes.

He can’t help but stare, really (Commander, are you insane) watching her jerk against his fingers, her own tightening and loosening around his arm with each little aftershock, until she finally releases his wrist, shoving her hand down to finish him off. Thom makes barely any noise when he comes, gritting his teeth, riding it out with a little noise at the end that’s mostly a realization that he’s going to have to walk out of the training room with soggy boxers and faintly damp pants. Not exactly how he’d intended to spend his morning, truthfully.

“C’mon, gotta get up,” Thom mumbles a little distractedly, adjusting his pants with a cringe, feeling her slide down off his thighs and lean against the wall, instead, legs stretched out in front of her, while she smooths her shirt down as much as she can. For all intents and purposes, it just looks like a long sparring match, with both of them worn-down afterward. Dragging a hand through his hair, rearranging what he can to at least look a little settled, he rolls to his feet a little unsteadily, tone wry. “Four to four.”

“--Tie,” Kat acquiesces, still trembling, breathing hard, cheeks flushed and panties soaked, leaning against the wall. For all that, Thom can’t help but think that the one word still sounds a helluva lot like an, I win, of sorts.

--
I know I got a little ~liberal~ on the word "comfort"

:\ he comforted her with his dick ok ~~THIS IS A LEGITIMATE STRATEGY~~

Carter/Thom

because we already had Kat/Thom

Ren!Shep/Tex.

Being badass redheads together.

And I do mean together.

hnrgh this is glorious. what is this even. :|

It's not porn but I don't care. I want Zaeed's hallucinations. :<

My kink is tragic memories of dead daughters, apparently.

LMAO WHAT

Zaeed/Altman

KINKY GUN LESSONS

they're both weird guys with issues, make it as horrible as possible

bonus if someone walks in and is traumatized by two old dudes being gayish

O'brien/Rookie

"It's not you, it's me"

Else: bonus Cameo from Black-One?

???/???

Abusing the mmo avatars for anonymous cybering.

"Nicoooooole," Isaac sobbed, balls deep in the most delicious cake he'd ever baked. The thick, dark icing squelched through his fingers as he grasped at it-- trying to get a better angle, trying to gain some semblance of control. The soft baked good crumbled in his hands, bringing a fresh sob to his lips. "No, no, no," he brought his fingers to his lips, smearing the sweet confection across his chapped, bitten lips.

"No, no, no," and as he sucked his fingers clean, his own salty tears mingling with the rich taste of lard-laden cake, he released a load deep, deep inside it. He immediately fell upon the table, gathering the ruined cake in his arms and sobbing himself to sleep.

Kat/Virgil

Mutual manipulation

Dave/all the ladies

Dave is now a narwhal.

Bitches lovve wwhales.

You know what would be lol

someone getting fucked by T when he's in his endoskeleton mode.

Delta/Cortana

Holodecks

Okay, their first 'date' had involved a lot of shopping, so when Kat ~~asked~~ informed him they were going back to the shopping district, he thought nothing of it. Perhaps it was a bit odd since he'd thought she and Carter had finally hooked up, but hey, he could roll with it.

What he wasn't expecting was for her to take him to one of the porn shops he'd already frequented on his own. He tried not to appear too knowledgeable on the layout as she obviously started looking for something specific.

“So, what do you have in mind … ?” He was almost afraid of the answer. Normally he wouldn't have had any problem getting intimate with Kat – can't even say he'd never thought about it before – but he wasn't at all prepared to mess with something in progress, if she and Carter were indeed doing this civilian 'dating' thing he'd heard so much about.

Kat had held back her reasoning thus far if for no other purpose than she was still fuming. She'd all but done a naked palm dance for Carter and he still hadn't batted an eye. “I'm looking for strap-ons.” She said simply, eyes scouring the merchandise, darting unimpressed over the huge floppy dildos and vibrators with a hundred attachments. She missed the not-so-subtle oh god why does that turn me on little chuckle from Jun as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I … think I saw some over here?” He lead her over to a corner where the more … dominant minded female could get her kicks. He felt a little shiver as Kat's eyes lit up,

“Yes, exactly what I was looking for.”

Jun watched her for another moment as she took down the boxes and looked at the different models. She certainly was putting a lot of thought into this. “So ...”

“I just feel that the Commander needs a little … hint.”

“Doesn't look so little of you ask me.” He was eyeing the particularly endowed model she had in her hands at the moment.

“Too much?”

Jun wavered his shoulders in a sort of non-commital shrug. “Might be, if it's his first time. I'd suggest this one,” He plucked down a model and handed it to her. “Should get the job done, and it's even equipped with a clitorial attachment to stimulate you as well.” He says it so matter-of-factly, for the moment not letting the weirdness of discussing sex toys with his LC get to him in lieu of 'hey, I have helpful information for you'.

It was probably one of their more successful shopping trips.

Back at base, Jun parted ways to spar with Rookie, and Kat immediately retired to Carter's room. He looked up from the desk, where he was going over some daily reports, a brief smile playing on his lips as she entered.

“Where've you been?” He asked, more in a distracted manner than anyhting else, as he almost immediately turns back to his reports. Kat has the non-descript bag slung casually over her shoulder as she responds, just as distractedly.

“Out shopping with Jun.” She watches out of the corner of her eye as Carter pauses just a fraction in his notes. That was the whole reason she'd invited him, of all people. It was just luck that he happened to be able to offer her some relevant advice. Creepy, but lucky.

“Mm-hm.” Carter responded. Kat's momentary victory fizzled out, but that wasn't the main point of this particular excersize. She disappears into the bathroom to change.

Carter's in the middle of shelving his reports when Kat emerges from the bathroom.

“Well, what do you think?”

He glanced over, where she stood in the doorway wearing absolutely nothing but the strapon.

Absolutely nothing else.

And then he glanced back at the reports. He paused. Did he see that right? He turns slowly to look back at her, his expression a mix of disbelief, confusion, and just the slightest, slightest bit of curiosity.

“You, uh ...”

He didn't have time to finish his thought, as Kat strode confidently across the room and took the situation into her own hands.

NO MORE TRAUMA MMKAY

BEST EVER Y/Y

i totally lol'd

there are not enough (unsure) faces int he world

JUN YOU TRAITOR

"Take it, take it," Virgil grunted. "That's right you dirty little fruit. Hnngh yes." Cutting into the rind of the melon had left the edges harsh-- almost sharp against his member. He pushed in harder, punishing himself far more than the fruit. He caught his lip between his teeth and bit until he tasted blood.

Squelch squelch squelch went the watermelon, and Virgil continued growling dirty nothings into the open air as he fucked it harder and faster. The ripe red juice ran down his thighs. Shiny black seeds emerged, pulled out violently with the force of his thrusts, and skittered across the kitchen floor.

"Gardenia!" He roared. With a fond pat, he pulled out of the abused fruit and set it on the counter. "Oh hey," he waved at the redhead standing in the doorway and casually stepped over the puddle of fucked to death watermelon innards. "I was just about to make fruit salad. You want some?"

you know you love it.

KINK MEME 3.0

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3/4 fuck you limits 8(

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1/2

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