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2010 Winter Games Kink Meme
Figure Skating Post!
Only figure skating/ice dancing prompts/fills go here!
Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.
Other Sports and Crossovers are here.
Speed Skating is here.
Rules are still there to be followed.
If you are new, please be sure to read the rules before posting.
Feel free to repost any prompts that have not been ( Read more... )
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It’s an unspoken rule in the locker room that nobody looks at each other before a competition, as if every skater’s headspace radiates outward to create an impervious shell that will not be touched by intimidation or doubt. It’s each to his own, replaying the sequences of footwork and jumps in his head until the very moment he steps onto the ice.
It’s the pre-competition adrenaline running under his skin that makes Evan look, with just a hint of sixteen-year-old hormones tingeing his curiosity to glance at the other boys around him, to know how all of the rest of the contenders, his rivals, are holding up. But his eyes only land one place-the pale expanse of the lithe back in the corner, the top half of a sparkly costume hanging off of that trim waist, and Evan’s mouth goes dry,
and he wonders if his hands could span the width of the smaller body,
and he wonders how his mouth would feel right there where the clasp of a silver necklace rests against the top vertebra ( ... )
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I'LL BE IN MY BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNK
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Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG
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“Let’s make a bet,” Johnny declares as he slides into the seat next to Evan at lunch, stealing a slice of cucumber from Evan’s salad. He hardly has time to look up before Johnny continues. “If you manage to steal my third consecutive national title from me, I’ll stop making fun of you to the press. Because I’m nice and fair like that.”
Johnny beams and snags a cherry tomato, too. Dumbfounded, Evan stares at Johnny, horrified both at the loss of his vegetables and the thought of the possible repercussion of losing a bet to Johnny Weir.
“What if you win again?” Evan asks cautiously. He has to cover all of his bases, after all. Johnny taps his chin thoughtfully.
“I get to fuck you!” Johnny cheerfully exclaims before flouncing away, Evan’s mouth hanging open.
“I never even agreed to this bet!” he yells across the room, but it’s no use. Johnny always gets what he wants in the end, really. Evan gloomily turns back to his salad.
Of course, Johnny does win his third consecutive title as national champion, and while standing with ( ... )
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Evan’s “yes” comes out more as a gasping shout, as Johnny pushes in past the tight ring of muscle, filling him in places he never realized were empty.
“Good start,” Johnny laughs darkly as he wraps a hand around Evan’s cock, before pulling out to the tip and roughly thrusting back in, hitting something inside Evan that makes his eyes roll back with a cry and a blurt of precome to dribble across Johnny’s knuckles.
“So full, so good, oh God,” Evan groans, the familiar pleasure-ache beginning to build in the pit of his stomach as his dick slides in and out of Johnny’s fist and Johnny’s cock stretches him so wide and hot, sliding against Evan’s prostate until he can hardly even think to breathe ( ... )
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You really don't need to change a thing. You're fabulous. (And your comment makes me super excited for the forthcoming parts._
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I like you.
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(In fact, I have a girlboner for pretty much everyone in this meme. Shhh. I'm becoming a cuddleslut like Stéphane.)
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