Anonymous tennis RPS kink meme
May. 23rd, 2009 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxI stole this idea from many others, but most memorably ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vom_marlowe (from who I quoted these guidelines). This is how it works:
You post –anonymously- a kink request that you’ve always wanted to see. Something you really want but don’t necessarily want to admit to.
Random people come by, read the request, and write a ficlet to order. And post it as a reply to the comment, also anonymously.
Multiple replies (ficlets) to requests are welcome, nay! Encouraged. Also, requesters do not have to say thank you and readers who enjoy the ficlets do not have to provide feedback, but it’s always loved.
About the requests:
A pairing is not enough. Please provide some sort of scenario, kink, detail, situation, that makes it special to you. A handy link to generate ideas should your pervy brain fail you.
About the replies:
If you need to, post “part 1”, “part 2”, etc.
In general:
Play nice. This is all anonymous and I will come down like Rafa on a bad day on anyone being mean.
Feel free to pimp this everywhere you wish.
If you accidentally have yourself signed in, please delete your comment and repost anonymously. If you don’t notice, I will try to do this for you.
Please, no underage characters having sex.
Request! If your request is filled, write another one!
Write! If you find a good prompt, write it, post it, and look for more!
Read! Everyone loves a reader!
I think that covers everything. So! Go forth and kink!
ETA: if you appear to be a troll I will delete your comments.
vom_marlowe (from who I quoted these guidelines). This is how it works: You post –anonymously- a kink request that you’ve always wanted to see. Something you really want but don’t necessarily want to admit to.
Random people come by, read the request, and write a ficlet to order. And post it as a reply to the comment, also anonymously.
Multiple replies (ficlets) to requests are welcome, nay! Encouraged. Also, requesters do not have to say thank you and readers who enjoy the ficlets do not have to provide feedback, but it’s always loved.
About the requests:
A pairing is not enough. Please provide some sort of scenario, kink, detail, situation, that makes it special to you. A handy link to generate ideas should your pervy brain fail you.
About the replies:
If you need to, post “part 1”, “part 2”, etc.
In general:
Play nice. This is all anonymous and I will come down like Rafa on a bad day on anyone being mean.
Feel free to pimp this everywhere you wish.
If you accidentally have yourself signed in, please delete your comment and repost anonymously. If you don’t notice, I will try to do this for you.
Please, no underage characters having sex.
Request! If your request is filled, write another one!
Write! If you find a good prompt, write it, post it, and look for more!
Read! Everyone loves a reader!
I think that covers everything. So! Go forth and kink!
ETA: if you appear to be a troll I will delete your comments.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-24 01:05 am (UTC)Roger masturbating, Rafa as the voyeur - then being discovered by Roger
Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (1/3)
Date: 2009-08-04 03:15 am (UTC)1-if you bust somebody in the act.
2-to tell somebody you've got their back.
Enjoy. *crosses fingers*
Stupid clay. Stupid island.
One of the most peaceful suites in Nixe Palace, where the Spanish Royal Family also kept one for guests, and Roger couldn't sleep.
He twisted under the sheets, put a t-shirt on, took it off again, finally rolled out of bed and began striding in long-legged laps through the suite in just his shorts.
Sure, he was thrilled to play on Mallorca, since Rafa played in Basel. Right, the idea of mixed surfaces was great since they each dominated one.
Yeah, he'd said all that at his pressers. It sure sounded good. He raked his hair, paced some more.
He was concerned about the ball's behavior in the humidity - and - AO aside, it was a strange year so far - he wanted to make a good showing - and - he hoped Mirka supervised whoever was packing his shoes for both surfaces - and - he wanted to make a good impression - Rafa's whole family were everywhere, all the time - and …
Their promo teams decided it'd be "just so marvelous" for the event to have the Kings of Grass and Clay occupy side-by-side suites at the Nixe. So convenient for pressers, photo ops … on and on. Hotel Horizonte was closer to the Arena - Mirka, Pierre, everyone else was there - but even if it was "only" an exho, Roger wanted concentration before a match, and …
He wondered if Rafa thought he'd come up with the adjoined-suite idea. He wondered if Rafa had come up with the idea. Then he tried not to think about it anymore.
He just threw himself into a chair in the outside sitting room and shot a long look across the room to the bolted door connecting the King Suites.
But he didn't want to bother Rafa. Not really.
Well. He shouldn't. Roger pushed through his curls, sighing heavily.
After a false start or two - or four - he went back into the bedroom and to his laptop on the desk. He unpacked the DVDs of his and Rafa's TMC final, 6 months earlier.
After Miami 04 6-3 6-3, once Roger realized Rafa wasn't going away, or getting out from under his skin in any sense - maybe never - he quietly put a cameraman on staff whose only job was to make sure Roger got full closeup, medium, and wide angle coverage, just of Rafa, from all their matches.
He told his team that as Rafa's topspin was so vicious, and he was used to beating right-handers, he needed to study all Rafa's stroke angles to create a strategy to beat him consistently.
Press was scribbling torrents of articles comparing them down to the topspin's rpm, so nobody thought to question it.
Roger opened the vid. Images of Rafa, full face, medium, closeup, wide angle, spilled across the screen.
Running like a leopard crossed with a jackrabbit. Muscles, cheekbones, ruthlessly cut. Nothing of Rafa's smile in all the blaze and roar, so Roger activated a little montage of trophy-biting and flashing dimples in the screen's corner.
He ran his fingers over his shorts in front. Rafa's fingers weren't as long, but his hands were bigger. So Roger used both hands, and rocked his hips forward as Rafa's back view in his tight shirt and tight pants filled the camera, legs wide, to receive Roger's shot. Roger's eyelids fluttered as he pictured Rafa in that same position with his shirt off.
Yes, that, thought Roger. His cock twitched, filled, lengthened. He slipped his hand down his shorts, curled his long fingers, and stroked up his shaft, over the head and back. Again. Rafa pummeled a forehand, with one of his warrior grunts. A soft answering moan slipped from between Roger's lips.
Sweat clung to Rafa's biceps, changing the light on them as he wiped his face with his forearm, flattening his shirt's fabric wet over his chest. Roger stripped him of the shirt again in his mind, the skin of his own nipples puckering, and jacked himself faster.
He was so immersed in the images, the escalating heat between his legs, he didn't see the light-dark balance behind him to his left shift slightly. And he didn't hear the door at all - speedy, sneaky little - but the low liquid voice could only belong to one person.
"Rogelio."
Roger let his waistband go with a snap.
Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (2/3)
Date: 2009-08-04 03:18 am (UTC)His face flamed; he could smell his sweat, half lust, half panic. He didn't look at Rafa, even with his curving, carved silhouette filling the half-open door.
"I thought that door between the suites was locked."
"I ask them earlier today to unlock."
Roger repeated it slowly. "You had them unlock it." Of course he did. Of course anyone on Mallorca would probably do anything Rafa wanted, if he asked them to.
Rafa padded further into the room. "In case maybe you need me." Roger was still looking straight ahead and so could only see him peripherally - he was backlit, bare-chested, dark red pajama bottoms riding high in back, lower under his midsection's stripes of muscle, baring the silky hairs pointing down.
Down. Roger swallowed. He couldn't see if it was just a shift of the fabric in the half-light - were Rafa's pants … tenting … in front?
"You are guest here. This is my home. If you do not know where something is, where to find everything you need …" he shrugged, spreading his hands expansively. His hair shadowed his face slightly, not hiding the steadiness of his eyes on Roger.
Roger tapped his tennis forearm with the fingers of his other hand, trying to hide - well, everything - and to stonily ignore Rafa's simple, eloquent appeal. Good luck with that, he thought to himself.
But - he had to know. "How long … were you standing there?"
Rafa came further forward. The screen's glow reflected his face's angles. He wet his lips, moving his eyes slowly from Roger to the images on screen, then back to Roger.
"Long enough to figure … maybe you need me, no?"
Roger had to look at him then. Rafa looked back at him. Ten thousand volts more energy than in the tripled images onscreen. At least.
"So I am right here."
Roger swallowed. His eyes dropped to Rafa's waistband before moving slowly back up his torso, to his shoulders, his face.
Rafa's pants were definitely tenting.
Roger got up out of the chair.
Rafa closed the distance between them with one step. He leaned his forehead right on Roger's.
Roger spoke low.
"You scared the shit out of me."
Rafa massaged the muscles in his chest, playing over his nipples. Roger shivered down to his feet. "Your heart feels like … can take it, no? Venga aquí
- come here." He started to pull Roger back, away from the desk, toward the bed.
Of course anyone on Mallorca would probably do anything Rafa wanted, if he asked them to …
Since he was here and all, Roger figured he should behave as anyone on Mallorca would. It was only polite.
They moved in unison toward the bed. Rafa stopped moving, pulled Roger close, let his hands roam and flicker over him.
Roger managed to stammer something like "You've been w-working on your net … hands."
Rafa looked through his hair at Roger. "We think about the tennis tomorrow, no?" One slow, sly smile. "Unless thinking about it - how you say - gets you off."
Roger blushed scarlet.
"You - you're not - look, Rafa, I -"
Rafa pushed his hands into Roger's hair and looked right in his eyes, and Roger could feel his cock, through all the fabric between them, hard and hot, right up against his own stomach, like he could feel his against Rafa's.
"Rogelio, what you think?" He leaned over and put his mouth on Roger's ear.
"I also have many … many … pictures of you, no?"
And before Roger could think any more about what Rafa just said, Rafa tightened his hands around his waist and waistband, crouched, and with his powerful legs hurled them both onto the bed, himself backward and Roger on top, where they landed with a double grunt.
"Hey, it's all muscle," Roger protested, scrabbling out of his shorts.
"For sure, I know this! That is what makes you land like bricks, no?" Coughing in recovery, Rafa slithered out of his pajama bottoms and shook them off both feet into the middle of the room.
Naked, kissing, they fell back on the bed.
Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (3/3)
Date: 2009-08-04 03:21 am (UTC)Except for a slow-forming sheen of sweat, Rafa looked serene, dreamy underneath him from the chest up, hair fanned out over multiple pillows, his eyes, the way he was looking at Roger. But his hips pumped Roger up and down like a wave, strong hands firm on his ass, rubbing, grinding, his velvety shaft right on Roger's, till Roger gasped and thought "ohmyGOD he is so strong so much core control I need to be careful I might not win the match ohmygod ohgodohmyGOD," and their bodies sliding together drove everything else out of his head and he rode the momentum on one of the waves up and flung his mouth on Rafa's to try to … try to …
Roger forgot what he was trying to do. He forgot everything except how good Rafa felt and how warm his eyes were.
Rafa licked up Roger's arm as Roger moved it over him and between his legs. While he wrapped himself around Rafa and listened to him moan, Roger licked all the muscled hills and crevices of Rafa's arm, maybe even in a one-upping kind of way, but mostly because Rafa was right there now, and his arm tasted warm and sweaty and delicious.
Ohgod, Roger thought hazily as Rafa touched him, Rafa had been watching him - and well. He fingered Roger, teasing for long minutes till he almost whimpered, then with a twist of his wrist and a strong sliding friction, he began working Roger's cock with almost the same strokes Roger had used on himself.
"You want -"
"Just your hands, Rafa," Roger gasped out. "Just your hands on me."
He panted, and rubbed Rafa tight, matching his rhythm, and Rafa cursed in little whispers, writhing underneath him. Roger couldn't get close enough; he got a mouthful of Rafa's hair as he twisted and heaved himself up on the muscle of his thigh, as Rafa kept circling and grinding underneath him; his eyes were shining and he opened his mouth for Roger to kiss him again and matched the rhythm of his tongue pushing into Roger's mouth to the hand between them sliding fast on Roger's cock, more friction, more liquid, more, squeezing, stroking, rubbing, hard, fast, more, more …
Roger came, shaking, and Rafa held onto him and watched him do it, never blinking, working his hips again as he watched Roger and listened to him gasp; and his whole midsection went rigid and after a low "Rogelio …" their stomachs were twice as slippery. The extra liquid made Roger's aftershocks kick deep and he buried his face in Rafa's neck to stifle the sounds he made.
Rafa heated him, and held him, and kissed him, as he recovered his breath.
Drifting in and out of a doze, Roger occasionally, dreamily blotted away stickiness with the sheets. Every time he opened his eyes it felt like hours later. Rafa began to make little stealthy moves to untangle himself from both Roger and the sheets. Roger tossed a dazed arm at Rafa's shoulders, another at his waist. They kept slipping out from under him.
He half-opened his eyes and blinked at Rafa, then opened them almost all the way, a question deep down in them. He felt, rather than saw, the soft, thoughtful, un-dimpled version from Rafa's carousel of smiles. Then Rafa kissed Roger's nose, and kept moving.
"Rogelio, I do not think this -" Rafa's eyes skimmed himself and Roger in the wildly tousled bed "- is why they call the torneo 'Battle of Surfaces'." He half-laughed, warming the room's mood again. "I think they mean another thing, no?"
He kissed all around Roger's palm, then slipped backwards out of the bed like a ghost.
Roger yawned. First Rafa was there, then he wasn't. Just like … on the … damn court …
He'd figure out … what to do about … the sheets … early … tomorrow. He heard slithery noises, faint and far away. Was that Rafa … putting on his …?
"… que tenga dulce sueños."
Eyelids heavy, Roger forced it out. Rafa's voice was like a song to sleep to … but it wouldn't be nice not to … "What's … that mean …?"
"Have sweet dreams."
Roger was already asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Re: Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (3/3)
Date: 2009-08-04 12:55 pm (UTC)Thanks for this piece :)
Re: Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (3/3)
Date: 2009-08-05 08:54 pm (UTC)Re: Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (3/3)
Date: 2009-09-17 02:32 am (UTC)Re: Roger/Rafa - Gotcha (3/3)
Date: 2009-09-18 07:08 am (UTC)Also so nice when anon!reader sees what you saw in a character.
"kinky and romantic"
Love to write them like that … :-)