KINK MEME 3.0

[nobletwo.livejournal.com]

Same rules as last time and the time before.

post a request anonymously with the pairing of your choice and a prompt/kink/what have you, fill requests that catch your eye!

- one request per comment!
- if you make a request, please try and fill one too!
- have fun!
- chat is full of terrible people!

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

shameless thom/kat request
bonus: carter cameo

UST and comfort

1/3?

[(Anonymous)]

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.

2/3

[(Anonymous)]

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.

3/4 fuck you limits 8(

[(Anonymous)]

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.

4/4

[(Anonymous)]

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

Re: 4/4

[givesbackbombs.livejournal.com]

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