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

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.