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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Say Mercy (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: When Deku bets Shinsou that he can win in a tickle fight against him, Shinsou takes him up on the offer to find out.

A/N: YES YES YES!! This isn't officially ShinDeku but it's those two boys tickling each other and I liiiiive for this! I was so excited to finally write for them again! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 2,302

~~~

“Oh, give me a break,” Shinsou groaned, letting out a defeated sigh. His character spun off the track and had to be rescued, costing him precious seconds as Kaminari’s character whizzed by him into third place. “Dang it, I was actually doing well that time.”

Kami smirked, eyes glued to the screen. “Sorry, bro. Peach waits for no man!”

“She waits for Mario,” Deku pointed out.

“Details.”

The three of them were seated in the living room, having claimed the TV for the night in 1-A’s dorms. Deku was finally getting his wish to become better friends with the purple-haired boy. He’d been elated when his phone had buzzed with a text from him asking if he wanted to join in on some Mario Kart, and he nearly broke another bone in his haste to get to the living room. Kami had seemed concerned, but Shinsou looked amused.

Now they were on their final race in a four-race grand prix, and Kaminari was dominating them both. Deku was content to hang out in fourth and fifth place, but he did feel bad for Shinsou, who had gradually gotten better with each new track until he’d finally claimed third for the first two laps of the last race, only to be thwarted with a red shell.

Kami crossed the line in second, with Shinsou in fourth and Deku in seventh. The electric hero pumped his fists in the air. “Yeah, baby! Gold trophy!”

Deku and Shinsou exchanged amused glances.

“Just wait, Kaminari,” Deku said, grinning. “One of these days Shinsou is going to catch up to you and then you’ll be eating those words. And his dust.”

“Sure, sure.” Kami waved his hand, unbothered. “But I’m going to enjoy the moment while it lasts. I always lose against Bakugou; you gotta let me have this, Midoriya.” Just then his phone buzzed, and he let out a groan of his own. “Ah, crap. Speaking of Bakugou, I promised him and the others I’d study with them tonight. Stupid math, anyway.” He got to his feet and waved, heading out of the living room. “Night, guys. Have fun fighting for last place.”

“Rude!” Deku laughed, waving him out. “Go on. See you tomorrow.”

Then – for the first time – it was just Shinsou and Deku.

“Um,” Shinsou started, “perhaps I should head out, too. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“What? No! You’re more than welcome,” Deku said hurriedly, worried he wouldn’t get the opportunity to talk with his newest friend one-on-one. “Want to do another grand prix? We can knock it down from that 200cc insanity to something more manageable. I’m sure you can get first place if it’s a little easier.”

“With a handicap, you mean.”

“No!” Crap, think about your words, Deku! “No, I just mean that it might be smarter to start with something a little easier, that way you can work your way up. You can beat him on 200cc eventually, I just thought—”

“Midoriya,” Shinsou said, stopping his rambling with a smile. “I was kidding. Relax.”

“Oh. R-Right. Sorry.”

Shinsou chuckled, picking up his controller. “Let’s try 100cc. That way I’m not starting from the complete bottom of the Mario Kart ladder.”

“You know, you might be really good at Sonic racing instead,” Deku suggested, swapping out his player three controller for the player one controller Kami had left behind. “It’s a little more involved, but it’s also technique based more than just random luck. I think you’d be great at it.”

“Sonic has a racing game?”

“Well, yeah. It’s Sonic.”

“I suppose that’s a good point.”

From there the two of them settled into conversation with ease, discussing everything from video games to schoolwork to Shinsou’s latest run-in with Bakugou.

“I can’t believe Kacchan agreed to owe you a favor. He hates owing favors.”

“I got the sense that he was desperate, even if he wasn’t saying as much. It’s satisfying, honestly. I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyway, but it feels good to put that hothead in his place.”

Deku’s lips twitched in a small smile. “The only time I’ve ever really been able to ‘put him in his place’ is when we have tickle fights.”

“You have tickle fights with that maniac?”

“He’s my oldest friend, so it kind of comes with the territory. But it’s fun, too. I like it.”

Shinsou paused for a moment, not reacting at all to the fact that his character once again got knocked from first to fourth with a blue shell. “Sorry. I should be more sensitive. I didn’t know you two were such good friends.”

“Well…” Deku sighed. “We’re not good friends, really. But we’re not enemies either. It’s kind of weird.” He did his best to explain his current standing with Bakugou.

“I see.” Shinsou nodded. “Well, even so, I’ll try to be more delicate in the future. Despite my grievances, I know he does have friends in these dorms, as do I.”

Deku smiled at him, taking his eyes from the screen for a moment to observe his profile. “So you’re making friends after all, Mr. I’m-not-here-to-make-friends?”

“I wasn’t lying.” Shinsou smirked. “But you are nothing if not persistent individuals. You and Kaminari, especially. But…I’m grateful. It feels good to have people actually want to hang out with me.”

Deku went silent for a moment. He could only imagine the kind of social isolation Shinsou went through because of his quirk. He thought back to their fight at the sports festival. How genuinely angry and upset Shinsou had been. He wished he knew what to say, but before he could formulate a response, the boy from 1-C was changing the subject.

“So you and Bakugou have tickle fights, eh? Who wins those?”

“Um…m-mostly Kacchan.”

“I wonder why.”

Deku eyed him again. “Are you saying you don’t think I can win them?”

“Not against him, certainly.”

“I’ve won before! Once or twice…”

“How many times has he won?”

“Look, the number’s not important. What’s important is that we have fun.”

Shinsou laughed, and it was such a surprise the sound actually startled Deku for a moment. “I suppose that’s all that matters, right?”

Feeling emboldened by the conversation and that laugh, Deku challenged, “I bet I could win a tickle fight against you.”

“Oh?” Shinsou crossed the finish line, then turned to look at Deku, who suddenly grew nervous as he waited to cross a few places behind. “Bold words, Midoriya.”

Having finished the race, Deku turned to look at him, suddenly feeling flustered. “I-I mean…since I’ve tickled you before, and I know where your worst spot is already. I just feel like I’d have an advantage…” He trailed off. He knew where Bakugou’s worst spot was, too, but that rarely helped him win those tickle fights.

“I suppose I have been curious how ticklish you actually are, since I’ve never seen it for myself. I’ve only heard stories. Do you seriously get tickled almost every day in this class?”

“U-Um…y-yeah, I do. But I don’t mind.”

Shinsou smirked. “Which means you like it.”

Deku could feel himself blushing now. “Yeah.”

“All right, Midoriya,” Shinsou said, shifting in such a way that the green-haired boy instinctively scrambled back, blushing even harder when his friend chuckled. “I want in. You think you can win a tickle fight against me? How much are you willing to wager?”

“Um…” Deku scrambled to think of something. “I-I don’t know…what do you want?”

“A thousand yen says I win.”

“Oh, yeah? W-Well…two thousand says I win!”

“You’re that confident? Very well. Quirks or no quirks?”

Deku froze. “N-No quirks. It’s not because I’m afraid of you, I just—”

“It’s okay, Midoriya. No quirks is actually advantageous for me, since mine doesn’t help me physically.” Shinsou smirked, pushing his controller aside. “Ready?”

“Y-Yeah. Ready.”

Deku barely had the words out before Shinsou was on him, shoving him to the floor with surprising speed and strength, wiggling his fingers into his sides.

“Eeep! Ahahahahahahaha, nohohohohohoho!” Deku giggled, trying to bat Shinsou’s hands away. “No fahahahahahahair! There wasn’t eheheheheheven a countdohohohown!”

“I asked if you were ready, and you said yes,” Shinsou replied calmly, grinning at the mess he’d made of 1-A’s most promising student, all with just a couple of light scribbles. “If you were lying, that’s your own fault.”

“G-Gehehehehehet off!” Deku squealed, reaching up to squeeze Shinsou’s ribs, pleased with the bright smile he got in response. He squeezed harder, willing himself to reach both hands up despite the continuing tickle attack on his own sides. “Get ohohohohohohoff!”

“N-No,” Shinsou grunted, obviously fighting back giggles of his own. He was tempted to reach for what he knew was a good spot, but decided against it for the moment. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now he wanted to get to know every weak spot he could. He darted his own fingers up to Deku’s ribs and vibrated. “Heh, h-how’s it feel, Midoriya?”

“Fihihihihihihihine!” Deku shoved his hands up under Shinsou’s arms in retaliation. The purple-haired boy retracted his hands to bring his arms in protectively, giving Deku the opening he needed to push him over and grab at every ticklish spot he could think of. Ribs, sides, belly. He went for them all in rapid succession. “W-What about you, Shinsou? A little ticklish, huh?”

“D-Don’t – you cahahahan’t act like y-yohohou don’t already knohohow!” Shinsou protested, curling up into the fetal position on the floor, chuckling into the carpet.

“Why? Does it fluster you when I do that?” Deku used the opportunity to grab at his friend’s knees and squeeze. Shinsou kicked his legs out so hard in response he almost took Deku out with them. “Whoa!”

“S-Sohohorry,” Shinsou giggled, batting at the hands that had returned to his sides.

“Bad spot?”

“Nohohot really. Just surprised mehehehehe.”

“You’re not really fighting back, you know~” Deku teased, amused by the realization. “Do you want to owe me two thousand yen?”

“Juhuhuhust indulging a lihihihihittle. Dohohohon’t worry…” Shinsou suddenly shot upright and dug into Deku’s underarms. “I’ll still win this tickle fight!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Deku screeched, falling back onto the floor with laughter bursting from his lungs. “NOHOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!!”

“Ooh~ Bad spot?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“No? You sure? You seem like you’re lying.” Shinsou grabbed one of Deku’s wrists and pinned it above his head, drilling deep into his underarm with his free hand.

Deku shrieked, tossing his head back and laughing unabashedly. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! SHIHIHIHIHIHIHINSOU!!” He desperately tried to grab at any ticklish spot he could with his other arm. He managed to succeed in scribbling against Shinsou’s side, causing the taller boy to choke out a giggle and unpin him so he could fight back.

Without really thinking about it, Deku sat up and grabbed his hips, digging in deep.

Shinsou burst into his own round of laughter, grasping at Deku’s wrists and trying to push him away while also desperately trying to keep from falling over again. “NONONO – NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE YOU CHEHEHEHEHEATER!!”

“Cheater? There was no rule against worst spots, Shinsou.” Deku grinned, feeling a rush of happy satisfaction at having made Shinsou laugh so freely without even needing to pin him down first. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“SHUT UP!! DOHOHOHOHOHON’T TEHEHEHEASE ME, MIDORIYAHAHAHA!!” Shinsou flailed for a few moments more before grabbing Deku’s hips as well. “TAKE THIS!!”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Now Deku was laughing hysterically as well, trying to fight his attacker off while still keeping up his own tickling assault. “YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK!!”

“YOU STAHAHAHAHAHAHARTED IT!!”

It was a hilarious sight, the two of them tickling each other’s hips in the middle of the living room floor, Mario Kart long forgotten on the TV behind them, laughing loudly and desperately trying to push each other off. In the end, it came down to which of them was more ticklish, and soon the tides began to turn in Shinsou’s favor.

“HA!! CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T LAHAHAHAHAST FOREVER, CAN YOHOHOHOHOU, MIDORIYA?!”

“NOHOHOHOHOOOOO!!” Deku whined as he finally relented his own attack to focus on defense, grabbing Shinsou’s wrists and trying to push him away. “NO FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!”

“I can’t help it if you’re just that ticklish,” Shinsou teased, still smiling uncontrollably as he finally managed to push Deku to the floor and straddle him, kneading into his hips deeply. “Much better. This is how I suspected this would end.”

Deku fought for a few more moments, then finally gave up and relented, kicking his legs wildly and holding onto Shinsou’s wrists weakly, feeling the muscles in his hands move as they tickled him, only making him more sensitive. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINE!! FINE YOU WIHIHIHIHIHIHIN!! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE UP!!”

Shinsou smirked, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his friend’s desperate cries. “Say mercy.”

“MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY!! MERCY, MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

For a long moment, Shinsou kept up his assault, not saying a word, making Deku shriek with ticklish panic at the fleeting thought that maybe he wouldn’t stop after all. But then, finally, it was all over, and he could breathe again. He gulped in large doses of oxygen greedily, reaching up to wipe the corners of his eyes where mirthful tears had started to form.

“You okay?” Shinsou asked, chuckling a little at the sight.

Deku sputtered out some leftover giggles and sat up. “Y-Yeah. I’m good.”

“You owe me two thousand yen.”

“Jeez, you don’t waste any time, do you, Shin?”

Shin? The boy from 1-C smiled a little at the nickname. “Not if I can help it, no. Told you I’d take you down.”

“In a tickle fight, maybe,” Deku conceded, picking up his player one controller and brandishing it with a new kind of challenging spark in his eye. “But I bet you still can’t win gold even on 100cc!”

Shinsou laughed, grabbing his own controller and knocking it against Deku’s like they were doing a fist-bump. “You’re on.”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya #deku #hitoshi #shinsou #shindeku #video games #tickle fight #cute #fluff #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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volleychumps · 4 years

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hcs for kageyama , ushjima , akaashi and iwaizumi with an s/o who's a really popular libero on their own volleyball team? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Tehe I’m writing this from a female perspective- so popular libero on their school’s girls volleyball team~ This has been in the drafts for awhile so thank you for your patience<33!!!!!!

And these get longer w/ every boy idk why

Kageyama, Ushijima, Akaashi, and Iwaizumi w/ a Fem! Popular Libero S/O

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Kageyama

- This awkward baby was shook to the core when you accepted his confession, mainly because you were known to deliver kind rejections after claiming about your devotion to volleyball

- Plus you were really pretty and popular around school, and he’s probs the type to confess just so you can reject him just so he can move on

- Until you said yes like wHAT I didn’t think I’d get this far

- 100% feels bad when practice time overlaps his own, but still does his best to fucking run mildly speed-walk to the girl’s gym after practice just so he can claim he was “on a light jog” to happen to run into you

- “Light jog? You sound like a hyena.” “...Do you want to go home together or not?”

- Comes to all your games when he can, which is often considering the girls either play before or after the boys depending on what school they’re at

- Tanaka and Noya defintely call him a simp when he blushes every time you send a wink his way from on the court, blowing kisses and such just to mess with him

- Finds out about your fanclub of boys the hard way- and blue-eyed baby becomes hella jealous when you offer a sweet wave in thanks for the support

- like what are you doing look at him and him only

- His deadly glare is enough to frighten your fanclub into sitting like they’re in church lmfao

- Feels pride swell in his chest for every point you’re able to salvage for your team, and can’t help but think he’s the luckiest guy in school when you help your team deliver a solid win

- “Wipe that smile off- it’s creepy.” “Tsukishima, I swear-”

- Overall, awkward setter boy is extremely proud yet not super showy about how much he appreciates both you and your talent, and it shows when you go to give him a high-five after the match-

- and he hugs you instead super quickly, mumbling into your shoulder before running off for his match

- “Tobio-?” “It’s not fair. You’re so perfect you have a damn fanclub.” “...I just played a whole ass game and that’s what you want to say to me?”

Ushijima

- Intimidating love met you through walking into the gym off-practice time to see you practicing by your lonesome, working on your digs before his voice makes you jump

- “This is the boy’s gym.” “Sorry! I heard you were uh, off today and I wanted to get away from-”

- Raises a brow when you yelp at the familiar call of “Y/N-chan~? Where are you?”

- literally wtf Wakatoshi just wanted to spike some balls on his off-day, but instead he’s facing a group of six to seven boys in search of you, bored expression on his face as he leans against the door of the entrance

- “Ushijima-san! Have you seen Y/N?” “...No.” as he glances at your obvious gestures of said word, sighing in relief when they leave

- “Are they gone?” “I assume so.”

- blinks once as you bow in thanks before gathering your things, asking you what you were doing before you awkwardly clear your throat

- “I can find another place to practice-” “No. Stay.”

- You find yourself agreeing after gaping at the offer, and eventually surprised when he offers to help you practice

- “W-Won’t your spike like, kill me?” “Only if you let it.” “...Did the Ushijima just make a joke?”

- Surprised at how well he lets his guard down around you, and can’t explain the feeling in his chest when you leave him your number to meet up to practice “only if he wants to”

- Definitely finds himself calling you up on your next off-day, and starts to notice you more and more when the girls play before the guys do, the stark difference in color of jerseys making you stand out to the spiker

- BIG impressed with your performance, and clears his throat when you approach him afterwards giddily, grinning widely as you flex your win

- “All that practice paid off, no?” “...I like you.”

- Remains indifferent as both you and his team all silent at the same time, and you attempt to laugh it off as a joke before you realize he’s not laughing

- “...Wait, really?” “Would it be troublesome if I meant it?” “N-No...!”

- Doesn’t spare a glance to your crying fanclub before leaning down to your height, staring at you dead-on as you turn into a blushing mess when he brushes some hair out of your face before nodding once

- “Good. Then I’ll be taking you out after I win this match.”

- And you can bet your ass he won his match, feelings for you hot on his heels while a similar heat bloomed in your cheeks as your team teased you from the stands

Akaashi

- He had heard of you before, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet you in the library, huddled behind an unpopular selection of books upon a bookcase as soon as he rounds the corner, a book on volleball techniques clenched in your hold

- Simply stares when your eyes widen at his form, laughing a tad sheepishly while whispering-

- “This isn’t what it looks like.” “...Well, I sure hope it’s not.”

- Goes to simply grab his book and go before a shout rings throughout the room

- “Y/N-chan!” “sH this is a library!!”

- Sweatdrops when you tug your shirt higher to shield your face, ducking your head down low as your “Rejects of the Beautiful Y/N” fanclub drop their voices to a whisper, but seem to be getting closer

- Next thing you know, the tall stranger is standing in front of you, shielding you from anyone looking into the aisle as you simply blink in surprise, watching as he shrugs his jacket off before dropping it into your lap

- Hums as he reads his book, mumbling a low, “It has a hood.”

- Steps to the side when you awkwardly shove his jacket on, slipping the hood over your head before rushing past him, nodding your head thanks with a light blush on your cheeks as his scent surrounds you

- “Where can I come return this?” “The Volleyball Club after school.”

- So when you make your awkward entry at the instructed time, you blanch when all of the Fukurodani boys seem to still, watching their setter jog up to you and accept his jacket back from you before chaos emerges

- “wHAT AKAASHI’S THE ONE TO DATE Y/N-” “Why are you yelling.”

- Feels the tickle of a smile on his lips as you become flustered, explaining that wasn’t the case before you run away, blush on your features after thanking him again with a bow of your head

- Tightens his grip on the ball in his hand as he watches you jog off, ignoring the barrage of questions from his teammates as the tickle of a smile becomes a full one, hidden behind the setter’s hand at how you lived up to the rumors:

- cute and sweet indeed.

- So imagine your surprise when he pops up at your next game, looking at you with a mild expression when you see him in the stands before he sees the pink hue light up your cheeks

- Already has his jacket off when you meet him after your win, and you shuffle nervously in place as the setter slips the material around your shoulders, ignoring your doe-eyed expression at what was happening

- “You don’t have to return it this time.” “Akaashi Keiji...right?”

- “Hm. Seems like we both know of each other.” As he zips it up, and confirms his feelings for you when you don’t push him away, practically feeling the racing of your heart as the setter silently claims you as his own in front of everyone

- “Shall I take you out to celebrate your win?” “...Out as in like a date?”

- smirks a little at your bewildered expression before leaning back, mild expression making you feel like his eyes were boring into you as pretty setter boy shoves a hand in his jacket pocket, tugging you a little closer

- “It’s no library, but I think we can make do.”

Iwaizumi

- The first time he saw you, it was to watch you play, his fist tightened in the collar of a leaning Oikawa’s shirt over the bar, who was rambling on and on about how perfect you were

- Hardly focused on girls, especially since it seemed like every girl at Seijoh was interested in Oikawa- but as soon as you looked into the stands and locked eyes with him on accident, you both shared a blush at the fact that you had caught the spiker staring

- Can’t explain the thump in his chest when you offer a bright smile from your position on the sidelines before jogging back out onto the court

- “Nope, Iwa-chan, I called dibs.” “You have dibs on every fucking girl in the school.”

- Gets taken off guard at his possessiveness over you

- Notices you a lot more, especially being flirted with as you awkwardly laugh it off while trying to step away in the halls of Aoba Joshai, and it takes a lot of Iwa’s willpower to simply stroll on by in his usual I-only-care-about-volleyball nature

- Until on a certain day, this one bastard got too handsy, and as soon as you let out a surprised squeal when said bastard tugs you into his chest by the waist-

- Iwa has him up against the wall two seconds flat, dark eyes spinning dangerously as a part of him wondered what it was about you to make him act like this

- “Beat it. Don’t touch women like that.”

- He got that respect-women juice

- “Y-You were the one in the stands...” as you put a hand over your mouth at the tumbling of words as a smirk tugs at the ends of Iwa’s lips as he feels pride at the blush on your features

- so you remembered him.

- “What is this- the fourth confession this week?” “You’ve been counting?”

- sweatdrops at his mess up as you erupt into a fit of giggles that had his heart thumping a bit more than usual

- “No. This is a public hallway.” “Mhm. Sure. Mr. I-pin-guys-against-the-walls-in-said-public-hallways.”

- Rolls his eyes at your playful smile, but remains grateful when you seem to relax around him, and your next joke takes him off-guard-

- “What, do you wanna make it five?”

- Finds himself leaning into you, a hand resting on the wall by your side as he eyes you seriously, watching you gulp as a satisfactory grin tugs at his lips

- “What if I said yes?” “I’d say...I don’t even know your name...Iwaizumi?” as you read off his nametag, Iwa leans in a little closer in the empty hallway, watching as you clench your fists and look away in embarrassment

- “It would make all the others leave you alone.” “Hm. Tempting.”

- Smirks when you find stability in your voice, a small smile making its’ way onto your face at how natural it felt with the boy you locked eyes with merely once

- “Then, Iwaizumi, would you like to be number five?”

- “Number one would work better, but eh- five works too.” as he leans a little closer, breath mixing with yours at the proximity as you squeak, shutting your eyes tight as Iwa grins at your cuteness

- “Hm. Not yet, princess. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

- So that’s how the ace grabbed your hand and tugged you along, heart swelled with you wishing he had closed the distance

- “Where are we going?” “Practice. Let’s see how well you can dig up my spikes, Ms. Popularity.”

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General Works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu ushiwaka #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #Iwaizumi Hajime

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stressedkitkatttt · 4 years

Text

My Little Quarantine

So quaratine got us all fucked up. I'm losing my mind a little so in honor of this, here's a story involving our favorite Ecuadorian and his dick.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk

DISCLAIMER: Do NOT think it is okay to take my stories and post them somewhere else without my EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Do NOT think it is okay to take anyone else's stories and post them somewhere else without their EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Giving credit does NOT count as permission. You may reblog my stories, you may NOT repost my stories without MY PERMISSION.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Christopher have been in lockdown for two months. You both were experiencing some cabin fever, and Chris was beginning to get on your nerves. You love him and all, but seeing him every day with no breaks, save for going shopping and when he was on video calls with the guys, it was obvious you were beginning to reach your limit. Even with your little breaks, when you came back from the store or he finishes the video call, he's right beside you again, cuddling with you, teasing you, pulling small pranks for Tik Tok... You name it, he's probably done it to you. And since he couldn't go see his friends and cause mischief in person, he turned to you.

Finally, you manage to settle him down from his antics by offering to play Mario Kart. He agrees and you both sit on the edge of the bed, getting comfortable. You choose your characters and choose random on the race selection menu. You had fully expected him to kick your butt but when you began to win just about every race, you got a little cocky. As your character crosses the finish line for the sixth time in a row, you throw your hands up in triumph, looking at Chris with the biggest grin.

Chris sighs and rests his face in his hand. You nudge him with your shoulder, "Doesn't feel too good when you're constantly losing, does it?" He fixes a hard stare on you, but it has a lightness to it, so you know he's not actually upset that's he's been losing for the past 10 minutes. When his face lights up suddenly, that signature Christopher Vélez smirk on his plump lips has you raising a brow.

"How about we up the stakes a little bit?" He says. "If I win, I get to fuck you every which way I want and you don't have any control. If you win, you can have the control and fuck me however it pleases you. All within reason, of course."

"What's the catch?" you ask after thinking over the idea he was proposing.

"There is none. All you have to do is beat me. Best of three races. The only rule is that we randomly select the races so we can't rig our chances of winning."

You mull over the idea. On one hand, you know that you're pushing your luck. If you continue to race against him, your luck will run out eventually and he'll beat you sooner or later. If that happens, he'll win the upper hand and you'll have to give up control for the night. But on the other, there's the sweet idea of being able to tie Chris up, tease him mercilessly like he's done to you many times in the past. You look at him. "So if I win... You'll let me take full control?" Your breath hitches a little when he nods his head.

Would it be worth the risk? You feel so conflicted before you decide to take your chances. It's not often you get to have total control in the bedroom. After all, Chris is a dominant man when it comes to the bedroom. You give Chris a smile and accept his offer. He smiles back and he gets up and uses the restroom. You move from the bed and stretch your legs, feeling a little giddy at the prospect of having Chris at your mercy, begging for you to let him cum. You're quickly brought back to reality as he exits the bathroom, returning to his spot on the edge of the bed. You join him and prepare yourself.

Chris selects the random button on the race menu and it chooses an easy course; Toad's Turnpike. You breathe a small sigh of relief. A pro to this is that it's an easy track. The con is that because it is easy, Chris has a higher chance of beating you. He does play this game more than you and knows some of the courses like the back of his hand. You were decent at the game, but some of the tracks give you a hard time while Chris seems to fly through them with ease. You take a deep breath and take a glance at Chris. He has his game face on, eyes glued to the screen with every intent on winning.

Lakitu comes down and counts down from three. When the lights turn green, you and Chris both gain speed through the starting boost. Because he started in seventh place, and you in eighth(total bullshit in your opinion), he easily slid past the NPCs and into first. You were close behind him for the first two laps until you got close enough to him on the final lap, close to the finish line, where you knocked him into a car. Chris practically growls as you pass him and cross the finish line. He turns his head and glares at you. You return his sharp look with a shrug, "You said the only rule was that we needed to use the random select when choosing the tracks."

"Still a dick move..." He grumbles under his breath, turning his attention back to the menu. He selects the random button again, this time it lands on Yoshi's Circuit. Oh great. You didn't particularly like this track due to its tight turns, and you've seen the way Chris handles those turns. This isn't one of his favorite tracks but he's kind of good at it. And just as you suspected, he beat you. You cursed those the pin-hair turns like a sailor and rolled your eyes when Chris rubbed the victory in your face. Whatever. You beat him seven times before this. You'll let him have his fun and get it out of his system.

But suddenly you feel a little nervous. This meant you each had won one race and now this final track would be the tie-breaker. You silently pray that the game is on your side and picks an easy track for you. But, as fate would have it, it chooses one of your worst nightmares. Rainbow Road. You groan mentally. Great. You were decent at the game, but even the pros can have a hard time on this track. It requires one's full attention and no distractions. You were gonna be royally screwed. And possibly in the literal sense. You clear your head and zone in on the screen. You weren't going to let him win. Not this time.

Chris starts in first and you in second. You both hit the starting boost and take the first few corners just fine. With the first lap gone, and Chris still in a steady lead, you grab an item box and to your luck, it's a red shell. You're far enough behind him that you won't catch up to him but you can still see him in your sight. You make sure to time your red shell launch just right, hitting Chris as he's taking the second turn, ruining his drift and sending him over the edge, leaving you to take first place. You hear his angry huff beside you but you don't spare him a glance, too fixated on winning.

You manage to keep first place, despite the seemingly infinite amount of red shells Chris seems to throw at you, and soon you're both on the last lap. You've got an impressive lead on Chris, who was steadily closing the gap. You're so engrossed in the lap that you don't notice Chris shifting closer to you. You jump suddenly at the sound of his voice right by your ear. "I bet you're already wet for me, aren't you nena? Or maybe you're wet because you can't wait to have me begging for you to let me cum." You bite your lip and try to ignore him, but his words sink in and you can feel yourself react to his words alone. He doesn't even have to touch you to get you going.

But you were caught off-guard and your hand moved slightly in your haste to move away from his voice against your ear. This caused your thumb, which was on the thumbstick, to move slightly and cause your Kart to spin out and into space. Since Chris was already gaining on you, this gave him the perfect opportunity to throw a final red shell as you were brought back up from your fall. The red shell hit you as Chris zoomed past, along with two NPCs, leaving you to finish in fourth place. Chris crosses the finish line with the smuggest smirk on his face.

You sit there, jaw slightly agape as the reality set in on what was going to go down. You whip your head and glare at him. His response was to look at you and raise his arms, stretching and leaning back a little. Like what he did wasn't a big deal. To say you were mad was an understatement. You were fuming. "Christopher! You asshole!" you practically scream. He justs grins and looks at you, thinking about how cute you were when you mad.

"How so, amor?" He practically purred as he suddenly pushed you down into the mattress, placing both arms on either side of your head and straddling your hips. Your glare intensifies.

"Don't play dumb! You know exactly what you did!" You growl out and he leans down, his light stubble tickling your neck.

"The only rule we had was that we use the random select. Nothing was agreed upon how we could win. And you pulled the same move on me in the first race, so now we're even." If looks could kill, Christopher would be dead where he stands. But, he did have a point; you both agreed that using random select was the only rule. And you know that. It's just your competitive side gets the better of you sometimes and with the offer, he had made with you, how could you not be mad? No wonder he had looked so enlightened when he brought up the idea. He had this planned from the start, the cheeky motherfucker.

You just groan in annoyance and throw your head back. A shiver runs down your spine as he begins to place kisses along your neck, hips slowly grinding into yours. He finds your sweet spot on your neck and sucks harshly, leaving a dark mark. He makes his way to your ear and his voice tickles your ear once more, "I'm hungry, cariño." He leans in and tugs on your lobe with his teeth. You moan and bring a hand up to his soft hair, gently tugging.

"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do then?" You reply, bucking your hips. His response is a low groan as he slowly makes his way down your body and stopping at the top of your shorts. Your breathing gets heavier as you feel your shirt slide up a little and his long fingers hooking into the hem of your shorts and pulling them down.

His hot breath fans over your clothed heat where he notices a wet spot forming. He looks up at you between your thighs, smirking. "How wet are you right now, cariño?" He asks, running a finger lightly over your panties. You already know he knows how wet you are. He just wants you to stroke his ego. You decide to keep your mouth shut for the time being. You were still a little upset at how he won the bet, even if it was technically within his right. When you remain silent, he raises a brow.

"Nena," he hardens his tone, "I asked you a question." You only huff and turn your head to the side, not looking at him. You don't notice his hard glare as he suddenly lands a slap on your ass. You yelp at the sudden sting and look down at him. "Good, now that I have your attention, I'm going to lay down some rules. You are not allowed to touch me. You are not allowed to cum without my permission. And when I ask you something, I expect an answer. Got it?"

You remain silent. He narrows his eyes as he lands another slap, this time you felt the sting for a few seconds more than the last one. "What are my rules?"

You reply with a sarcastic tone, "I can't touch you, I can't cum without permission, and to answer you when you ask me something. There, happy? Now hurry up." He raises a brow at your behavior. He wasn't expecting you to be such a brat. Guess he'll just have to teach you some manners. He is quick to rip your panties, to which you make a small noise of protest because those were one of your favorites. He ignores you and begins to assault your aching core with his tongue. He is also quick to use his fingers, making sure to brush your sweet spot.

He's done this so many times with you, he knows all the spots to hit. It isn't long before your on the edge. You suddenly grab his hair. You're so close to your orgasm, all you need is for him to -

"Did you think I'd let you cum so easily?" He pulls away from your core. He had a mocking tone to his voice. You look down at him, panting and eyes narrowed.

"What the fuck, Chris!?" You hiss.

"You've already broken two of my rules, nena. You'll be lucky if you cum at all tonight." You huff and throw your head back. "If you break one more rule, I'll take of myself tonight and I will leave you here throbbing and begging. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes sir..."

"Good girl." He lowers his face back to your core and begins to tease you. When he finally pulls away, you were dripping and your face was flushed. He had brought you to the edge at least twice before pulling away and letting you calm down. It only made the throbbing in your core worst. If he kept up this pace, you would cum with or without his permission. "Do you want to cum, nena?" He rubs his hands on your thighs. You nod and look at him with wide eyes.

"Please, papi, I need to cum so bad..."

"I know you do. But do you deserve to?"

You whine and reply, "No."

You weren't expecting him to suddenly thrust his fingers into your soaked core again and start a fast pace, his fingers rubbing against your sweet spot. You moan and warn him that you were gonna cum. "Dale." He grunts. That's all it takes before your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. He doesn't stop the movement of his fingers as he works you through your orgasm. He buries his fingers inside you, moving his middle finger and rubbing your sweet spot, building a second orgasm that takes the rest of your energy.

You sink into the mattress as he removes his fingers and sucks them clean. You think you have a small break to collect yourself but when you feel Chris moving up and aligning his hard cock with your entrance, you whimper. "Chris..." He knows what you're about to do and he quickly silences you with a fiery kiss as he slides in. He knows you well enough that you didn't need a break.

Not giving you time to adjust, he begins thrusting, hitting spots that were deep inside you. You forget his rule about no touching and your hands find his forearms. He stops suddenly and pins your hands above your head. "What did I say about touching me?"

"I-I'm sorry papi, I forgo-" He stops you.

"You're very lucky that I'm already buried inside you. Otherwise, I would go take of myself." He growls against your ear, picking up his pace again. From your previous two orgasms, your third one came over you so fast, you barely had any time to react. Chris grunts above you at the sudden tightness but keeps up his pace. When he suddenly pulls out, you think that's it but when he tells you to turn over onto your stomach, you open your mouth to protest. He raises a brow and you shut your mouth, turning onto your hands and knees.

He wastes no time and pushes into you again, hitting deeper at this angle. His hands are on your hips and he drags you back with every thrust. But Chris isn't satisfied with this position. He pulls out and instead lies down next to you, pulling you on top of him. He swipes his tip against your sensitive core and you shudder. He slowly sinks you down on him, taking deep breaths as he bottoms out.

You're tired but Chris barks at you to move your hips and ride him. You brace yourself against him and gather what's left of your energy and begin to move your hips. It's a slow pace but Chris doesn't seem to be in a rush anymore. He grabs your breasts and pulls on your nipples, making sure to give both equal amounts of attention. You were already close, and so was Chris. You collapse forward as Chris begins to buck his hips, meeting you with every move of your hips.

"Cum for papi. One more time, nena. I know you can cum one more time." He whispers and you feel his hand drift down and rub your clit. Your fourth orgasm washes over you and you moan weakly into Chris' as he buries himself inside you. You both collapse and you roll off of his chest. "Fuck nena," he breaths out. He turns to face you. "Are you okay?" He gently rubs your shoulder. You nod and close your eyes, tired as hell. He pulls you close to his chest and follows you into dreamland.

~~~~~~~

Taglist: @cracraforfandoms @kmsmedine @papichriscnco

#cnco #cnco smut #cnco chris #cnco christopher #christopher velez #cnco chris smut #christopher velez smut #cnco imagine

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ticklishraspberries · 4 years

Text

A Day (Or Six) in the Life

Note: This is from Richie’s POV sorta, so fair warning, there is some vulgar language from time to time. Hope you like it!

Sometimes there’s just too much shit going on in Richie’s head.

And like, don’t get him wrong – he loves the weird crap his brain comes up with. Makes things entertaining, a little spicy, a little zesty. The only problem with it is that he can’t find the damn remote that turns off the six different brands of Looney Tunes going on up there.

(He’d once spent an entire lecture assigning different Voices to the markers his professor used on the whiteboard, to the point that he hadn’t retained a single iota of anything the man actually wrote down.)

Man, that red little minx was pretty sexy though.

He snorts to himself as he comes out of his dozing, shoved back into the real world for the present. He can feel the hot line of Eddie at his back, leg hooked over his hip like a seat belt. His lil jet pack.

Richie reaches blindly for his glasses and pushes them onto his nose, sniffling. It’s still fairly early by his standards, but he doesn’t glance long enough at the digital clock to tell for sure, choosing instead to take one of Eddie’s hand and squeeze like it’s his own personal communications device. “Ground control to major Eds, come in, major Eds?”

No response.

Richie huffs, squeezes harder. “Psht. Major Eds? What’s your mission status, major?”

Maybe Eddie understands what he’s saying, maybe he doesn’t, but Richie receives a huff of hot breath at the back of his neck for his efforts, followed by what feels like a cheek smushed against his head. “S’too early, Rich.”

Flabbergasted, Richie turns over completely to grip a disgruntled, squinting Eddie by the front of his sleep shirt. “It’s never too early in outer space, Eds! Did the academy teach you nothing? I’m ashamed.”

And Richie doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Eddie so ruffled in the morning. Slow, blinking away sleep from his eyes with those impossibly long lashes, yawning around perfectly white teeth that look like little moon rocks, and - and it definitely seems like there’s a theme going on in his head today, doesn’t it?

“What are you even talking about?” The question sounds irritated, but that’s never stopped Richie before. If anything, it means that he has to go and run his mouth harder, because that’s his default reaction to any indication that someone might be upset with him.

(Except they both know that if Eddie really felt like it, he could just pick up his hot little self and go back to his own bed across the room. Hasn’t happened yet, so. Free game.)

“What am I -? I’m talking about the great race, major!” He pokes Eddie’s side, smiling knowingly at the resulting yip and defensive curl. “Space ain’t some pre teen with a secret collection of skin mags, babe-be, it’s not gonna explore itself.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose but can’t bury his smile in his pillow fast enough for Richie to miss it, sighing a long-suffering breath. “You’re so gross.”

“I try.”

“Where am I going, anyway?”

“Hm?” Richie kinda shifted out of the moment there, it’s gonna take him a second to catch up.

“You know,” Eddie yawns again, gesturing to the ceiling with a limp hand. “Space. Tell me where I’m going.”

“Oh, yeah. Uncharted territory, actually. Forgot to mention that.”

“Mmm…”

A moment of silence passes between them, which is really fortunate for Eddie because it gives Richie an opening for just about the best joke ever.

Gathering him in his arms slowly, he kisses his cheek, nuzzles up to him, and whispers, “To infinity… and your mom!”

Eddie, who had resettled peacefully in the crook of Richie’s arm, stiffens instantly and snaps one angry eye open to glare at him something fierce. Before Richie even so much as smirks, he finds himself pushed down into the squeaky mattress, two hands digging into any spot they can reach.

“Wait- W-wait!” Richie tumbles back with the force of it so hard he thinks he might get whiplash, but it doesn’t matter because he’s laughing around his next breath, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

Eddie’s like a freight train when it comes to this, hands jumping from sides to ribs to neck to armpits to stomach - it’s all Richie can do to hold on to his wrists, tickle-weak and letting it happen.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Trash mouth.” Eds hisses, though Richie can see through a few tears that he’s grinning, biting at his tongue in concentration. Richie loves it, loves how Eddie can just reach into his head and jumble his brain until his thoughts whirl around like confetti in a snow globe.

At any rate, those insistent little fingers wring every last one of them out of him by the time he stops, looking down at Richie’s flushed excuse for a face and beaming like he won a prize. Always a competition with him, hoo-wee. “You done yet?”

Richie blinks, drudging through the mud pile that is his brain for a witty retort. “Uh… I…”

Eddie leans down and kisses his nose. “Good. Let’s go get breakfast, I’m starving.”

——————————

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Richie pulls off his hat and tosses it aside the moment he’s through the door. He stops only to kick off his shoes, one landing near the rack and the other hitting the wall. He doesn’t care, though, limping into the living room. After an eight hour shift, he has no fucking business being vertical and wants no part of it, no sir.

He collapses face first into the cushions of their couch and breathes in. It smells like Bill’s cologne. Richie’s back fucking hurts.

“Owchie mama, that’s sore.” He complains out loud as he stretches to the full length of his gangly limbs, feet nudging the arm of the couch. He doesn’t expect his legs to get lifted up though, hello?

“What’s sore?” A voice asks curiously as the couch dips under his weight, Richie’s legs falling back down across a certain someone’s lap.

Mike. A godsend, for sure. “Oh Micycle, is it really you? It’s been decades since I’ve heard that macho voice, I almost forgot what it sounds like.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Rich. How was work?”

How was work? How was work?? Richie’s gonna combust, but he’s too tired to go all out, so he settles for a small tantrum, flailing. “Never mention that word to me again. If you do, we’ll have to get a divorce, and then who would look after the children? The traumatized little lads, fuck.”

“That bad, huh?” Mike chuckles, and it’s deep and fond and warm, and Richie looks over his shoulder just so he can picture it better. Mike’s holding a book in one hand, and the glass sitting on the table means that he was definitely sitting there before Richie got back, but now he’s sharing his seat like the fine friggin Georgia peach that he is, holy shit.

Richie whines. “I thought being a barista would be sexy! Like, a wet dream soccer team of sweaty Brazilians asking me for juice and my number, but instead - pardon my French - I get a bunch of douchebaguettes complaining how I spelled their names wrong. I’m gay and illiterate and I didn’t fucking ask them, did I? Stop laughing at me, Mike n Ike, this is serious business.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles again, chest shaking with it. “Douchebaguettes?”

“You’re making fun of me. I’m wounded. Way to kick a man when he’s down, M- ah… never mind, I love you. Keep laughing at me.” He groans outright when a warm hand wraps around his foot and squeezes, eking out the ever-present ache that Richie had gotten used to ignoring.

“I love you, too.” Mike snorts, and Richie doesn’t have to look to know he’s shaking his head. Fine by him, as long as he keeps touching him like that.

“Mm, your hands are the best,” he slurs into the couch. He will abso-fruitly say anything to encourage him at this point, not that Mike seems to want to stop anyway. His palm pushes delicious friction along his arches, pulling satisfied purrs from Richie with each pass until he’s a good and proper puddle. He might actually be drooling, a little bit.

It’s only when his touch lightens that Richie jerks, and the hand pauses. “Is this okay?”

Bless Mikey’s farm boy heart, asking for consent. Richie’s heart’s gonna burst. “Y-yeah, m’good.”

And he is. Mike’s fingers trace, feather-light, and it’s like there’s shivers buried underneath Richie’s skin, waiting for Mike to pull the trigger. It feels good.

It also really, really tickles.

He snags a cushion to bury his smile in, the muscles in his leg going taut every time Mike’s fingertips venture down towards his toes. More than a few times, Richie’s foot twitches away from the tingly zaps before he can stop himself, choked off mirthful noises tightening in his throat until a few burble out.

Each time Mike waits patiently until Richie resettles his foot back in his lap, and then his drifting touch returns, slow like tree sap and unbearably electric. It’s an awful game that forces Richie to expose how much he really wants it, but then again, Mike never plays like that intentionally. He just does what seems right because he’s perfect and a gentleman.

Richie loosens like an uncoiled spring when Mike rubs his thumb over his heel, whining his loss.

And because he’s a fucking gem, Mike picks up on it right away and huffs softly. “Sorry.” He scribbles gently at the arch of Richie’s slender foot in apology, earning him a muffled snicker and scrunching soles.

“Mihihike.”

“Mhm?”

“Tickles.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Pfft. Richie shakes his head, laughing harder into the cushion when Mike’s fingers drag down to his toes, scritching repeatedly. It’s not fair. He’s still wearing his socks with the pineapples on ‘em, and it’s worse than if he’d gone bare foot. He guesses it’s true that standing around for too long makes them more sensitive, but then, he’s always been this way.

His knees jerk far more often now that Mike’s put some gusto behind it, albeit a very small amount, but Richie thinks he does a damn decent job at keeping his feet from wiggling away, all things considered.

Still, eventually, he hears the sound of the book getting set aside. Mike stops his gentle tapping at his soles, and Richie realizes as he sags back into the couch that he’s… tired. Like, stupid sleepy. He yawns and stretches again, humming his surprise when two strong arms turn him over.

“Well hello, handsome.” Richie grins back at Mike’s amused half-smile, more than happy to be the center of his attention for a while.

“C’mon, Rich. It’s late, time for bed.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

He doesn’t fight it when Mike uses those absurdly strong arms to lift him up, despite being taller than him, wrapping his legs firmly around Mike’s hips and holding on to his shoulders. “Onward,” he yawns with enthusiasm. “Quick now yungin’, before we die of dysentery. Go on now. Git.”

Mike rolls his eyes and adjusts his grip as they head for the stairs. “Yeehaw.”

——————————

Richie tosses his controller on the couch beside him with a pout, watching the letters ‘game over’ flash across the screen. “Man…”

Behind him, he can hear the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing, and with a furrowed brow he gets up to investigate. “If you’re here to rob us, take Eddie first. He’s the easiest to carry.”

Around the corner, Ben smiles up from where he’s taking off his shoes by the rack (careful, because Stan insists). He’s beaming, actually, and still in his hot little karate outfit that makes him look like a formal dumpling. “You’re so mean to him. What if I wanted to rob you instead?”

“Everybody wants to rob me, Benny boy, get in line,” He hops up onto the counter to watch Ben’s face in the refrigerator light as he goes rummaging for a smoothie. “I’m just saying, if you’re any good at this, you gotta take the valuables first. Bottom shelf.”

Ben chuckles, leans down, and reappears, drink in hand. Richie nudges the door shut with his foot and grins back. “Who says you aren’t valuable?”

“Aw shucks.”

“Besides myself, I mean.”

“Benjamin.”

Ben laughs at him around a sip of his drink, and Richie couldn’t stay fake mad at him even if he wanted to. It’s really nice that the cheeky fuck has some confidence now, since he’s been losing some extra pounds here and there. He’s not afraid to brush past people anymore, doesn’t shift uncomfortably when his thighs touch someone else’s, and he hip-checks them on purpose with a sly look every now and then. He’s not afraid to take up space now, and all of the losers are proud of him for it, including Richie.

(He’s just, like, super jealous that he can’t have that sorta weight transferred over to himself. Just a little bit, so he’s not all jabby angles and pointy bones. Also? He’s going to miss Ben’s love handles.)

“You seem extra bold today. Care to share anything with the class?”

That happy look from a few minutes ago returns like Ben just remembered something important. “Yeah, actually - hold on…” He turns, fishing in his bag for something before turning back, fingers clutching a bundle of blue fabric. “I, uh, I got my blue belt today.”

“Holy shit!” Richie adjusts his glasses, leaning in to run his fingers over it when Ben offers it up. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re making it up.”

“I’m not!” Ben’s voice just brims with infectious joy, like a little kid excited to show their first ever drawing from art class. He even has the little jump in his step, too.

“Benny, that’s awesome, dude!” He jumps down to punch Ben’s shoulder, smiling wide at the other’s shy but obvious pride. “And you know,” he thumbs at his upper lip and sniffs. “Not to fuck my own ass or anything, but I’m something of a dōjō master myself.”

“Really?” Ben smirks, pushing back when Richie continues to push at his shoulder with his knuckles, bouncing on his heels anime fighter style.

“Really really. Call me Sensei, ‘cause I’ll teach you to mess with me.” He dodges with a surprised bark of laughter when Ben grabs for him, ducking and bringing his hands up to defend himself as they tussle right there in the kitchen, play-wrestling – Richie’s favorite thing.

Well. Almost favorite.

“Oof!” Richie hurumphs when the quick scuffle ends with him caught in a headlock, twisting back and forth fruitlessly. “Oi! Unhand me you fiend! You scoundrel! I’ll have you nicked, I will!”

Ben, not even winded, slaps his hand away. “Admit that I won and I’ll let go.”

“I’d rather bloody perish.”

“You’d rather perish?”

“Aye.” Richie grunts, straining against the hold. It’s like trying to empty a lake with a bucket. It just ain’t happening.

“Okay.”

Ben’s free hand digs into his side and Richie collapses back into him instantly, like a buck learning how to walk, except he’s really fucking bad at it and giggling maniacally. “Ben!”

They crumple to the ground together, though Ben anticipates it, wrapping a solid arm around Richie’s waist as his other hand snakes up under his shirt to scribble at his ribs.

Richie himself is a pale pile of squirming limbs, pushing back into Ben’s chest and squeaking with each sneaky pinch to his side. He tosses his head back against Ben’s shoulder in helpless snickering, tugging at his arm. “Ch-cheater!”

“I don’t hear you complaining!” Ben shoots back, fingers darting to where his shirt rucked up at his stomach to lay ticklish waste there. They move in a constant clawing motion, gentle because Ben is always gentle, but sadistic in the best worst possible way.

Richie convulses with how hard he laughs. He’s trapped in the most backwards tickle hug to exist, socks slipping on the tile of his kitchen floor, getting tortured by the group’s designated teddy bear.

A wayward finger brushes over the curve of Richie’s hip, sending him jolting even farther into Ben’s lap, tittering.

“C’mon, Trash mouth. Fess up.”

If Ben thinks he’ll ever tap out, he is sorely mistaken.

“Never!” Richie cries, and then dissolves into cackling when Ben goes straight for his momentarily unprotected armpit.

Neither of them notice when Stanley steps into the doorway and promptly turns to walk back out, not once looking up from his phone.

——————————

Every now and then, Richie forgets that he might actually come off as attractive to the other losers. He’s always jokingly attractive, obviously. ‘Who wouldn’t want a piece of me?’ or ‘Golly, buy me dinner first!’ Are a few easy phrases to throw around, usually with a suggestive cock of his hip or an over exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes, which gets him a laugh now and then.

But like, for realzies? Richie isn’t hot hot, not like Mike or Bill with their big shoulders and mouth-watering biceps, Jesus Christ on a stick. He doesn’t have that cute allure like Eddie or Ben, either. Richie’s just a scrawny friggin beanpole, lanky, unlike the elegant way that Stan and Beverly manage.

Being so gay is hard sometimes. Everyone looks hotter than you.

“Rich?”

He startles out of his musings and comes firmly back to himself where he’s reclined next to Bill on the trampoline, reminded of how his train of thought had gone that route; they’d been messing around until they weren’t, until Bill had cupped his face and brought him into a kiss, and then a fuzzy little parasite called insecurity reared its fugly head.

Richie squashes it down around a dazed smirk, seemingly quelling the momentary unease on Bill’s face. “Yowza.”

Bill snorts and rolls his eyes, plays with the hem of Richie’s “Support Whale Sex: Use Shampoo” shirt. “I thought you weren’t in the mood, for a second.”

“Vat?” Richie cries incredulously, shifting upwards and straddling Bill’s lap. “Bullsheet. Lies.” As if Richie could ever resist a man with legs like that. Damn.

Bill’s smile is genuine when he pulls Richie back down into another kiss, their lips meeting sparking a whole new wave of something in Richie’s chest, so intense that he’s pulling back within a few seconds, “Ven you look like zat? You lift, yes? Vat kind of –“

A hand covers his mouth, and Rich realizes that Bill is furrowing his brows at him. “Why are you doing a Voice right now?”

“…I’m nervous.” He apologizes, muffled.

Bill snorts again as if to say ‘yeah right,’ but his expression softens when Richie doesn’t say anything else. “Nervous, huh?”

Richie nods, then licks Bill’s palm. He pulls it away with a disgusted chuckle, and then.

Then Richie is suddenly on his back, looking up at two dark, mischievous eyes. “Hoo shit.” He whispers. They are not in Kansas anymore.

“You should be.”

That’s all the warning Richie gets before devilish fingers attack his sides, letting loose a bout of hysterical giggles from somewhere deep in Rich’s stomach. It’s like opening the floodgates every time. A head rush and a half. He squirms immediately, laughing harder when Bill drags him back down and pins him with one forearm against his own.

“Where are you going?” He muses, fond, and Richie’s face blushes ten different shades of crimson.

“B-Bill, please!” He wriggles, fingers clawing uselessly against slick fabric. If he struggles any harder, there’s a good chance the trampoline might start bouncing them for real.

��Please what?” His fingers are skittering up his ribs now, because Bill knows Richie just can’t stand that, and he’s smiling down at him like Richie makes him the happiest he’s ever been, and Richie can’t stand that either.

He squeezes his eyes shut, laughter coming freely the more that Bill tickles up his sides and over his stomach, curling up. Bill doesn’t seem to mind his lack of answer or the way Richie’s knees jerk into his hips, content to pull an endless amount of loud snickering from his partner.

It’s only when Richie arches away with a desperate wheeze that Bill stops what he’s doing, hands rubbing firm circles into the hips he’d just been scritching at - probably a routine he knew well from getting revenge on another particularly bony little shit they knew.

“You’re so - so mean. Gah. I’m taking you out of my will, Billiam.” Richie breathes, reaching up to wipe behind his glasses.

Bill just chuckles at him and leans down, and they share a soft kiss that makes Richie’s heart flutter in his chest all over again.

——————————

Kerplunk, sploosh. Kerplunk, sploosh. Kerplunk –

“Fuck!” Richie jolts with a quiet hiss of surprise, shifting his attention from the lake to the offending pen that had just jabbed his side. Bev, sitting next to him, giggles and points to his textbooks with it.

“Focus.”

Richie sticks out his upper lip, dropping his handful of pebbles in the grass at his feet. It took him, like, a whole twenty seconds to find those. “I was focused.”

“Focus on your homework, ding dong.” She gestures with her pen again, not looking away from her own book, which she holds easily in one hand. Show off.

Richie grumbles and hunches over, scrubbing a hand over his face. He makes it through two paragraphs before he fidgets again, making to reach in his shirt pocket for a smoke before he realizes, oh, yeah, I’m giving those up. Shit.

Sometimes character development is just not worth it.

Bev appears to notice the gesture though, because she gently elbows Richie this time, gesturing to the book. “It’s really not so bad. You’ve already gotten through a few pages.”

“Yeah, with like, a bajillion more to go.” He huffs, flipping through the pages one more time before sitting up straight and slapping the table. “That’s it! I quit college.”

“Mhm.” Beverly is far too nonchalant but she can afford to be, since she’s heard the exact same statement fourteen times since the beginning of the semester. Two weeks in and going strong.

“I’m serious this time! I don’t need a degree to be funny, I’ve got that part in the bag. Also, capitalism? Who needs it.”

“Do you really hate classic mythology that much?”

Richie groans and drops his head against the picnic table. “Yes.” He’d thought that it would be cool! Gods and Goddesses and monsters (oh my), but instead he has to bear through three whole paragraphs of a list of men, all sons of other men, because any of that is just so integral to the understanding of the Trojan war. Everyone knows that Achilles was the only real bitch on that battlefield, okay? Literally nothing else matters.

He jumps again, this time snickering, when Bev scribbles at his side. “Hehehey!”

“Cheer up, Tozier. Your vibes are ruining our study date.”

Richie eyes her up, adjusting his glasses. “Are you saying that my vibes are off, Marsh?”

She nods sagely. “They’re atrocious.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never failed a single vibe check in my life.” And that isn’t going to change today, no sir. Just ask Eddie, the last time he tried to pull something.

“You’re gonna fail more than just this vibe check if you don’t do your reading.”

“Not true! I know the stuff, I just… don’t like it.” He’s of the philosophy that memorizing shit just makes it harder to remember. Richie can go over some of the professor’s notes online and be just fine.

Heaving a sigh, Beverly gets up. She pushes at Richie’s back. “Scoot in.”

“If you say so, ma’am.” Though Richie just complies because he wants to see where this is going. When Beverly slides in behind him, legs on either side of his, he can kinda feel her boobs pressing against his back. Nice.

“Oh hello.” Richie grins, feeling free to press back into her. She smells nice - changed her perfume for some reason - and her presence is a welcome warmth, inviting and –

She blows a raspberry against the back of his neck.

– and a fucking trap!

“Bev!” He jerks forward instantly, shoulders hunching. She follows, nuzzling into the space behind his ear, and Richie shivers violently. “O-oho my gawd, why?!”

“I’m just making sure you pay attention.” She teases, weaving her arms around his chest so that her fingertips rest at his sides, making Richie tense. But nothing comes, yet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tickling him is definitely not going to make him want to read more. It’s going to make him want to be tickled. It’s like trying to punish an addict with cocain.

Bev snorts, fingertips wriggling briefly enough to get a squeak and a weak squirm out of him. “Just keep reading. If you slack off, I’ll bring you back!”

Ah! So simple! Haha! Wow. Genius.

Richie sighs heavily to indicate how much he turns his nose up at this frankly childish behavior, but reluctantly opens his book back up to where he was before. Admittedly, having Bev close might help his attention span, just slightly. He can feel her cheek resting against his back, ankles brushing his every now and then, and her arms are a soothing weight against his chest. Like the fancy weighted blanket that Eddie uses on his more fidgety days.

That doesn’t stop his attention from drifting occasionally, of course. When he takes a little too long to turn the page, Beverly tweaks his ribs or snuffles at the side of his neck until he lurches forward in a bout of giggles, holding on to the wooden table for support. And sometimes, when his leg starts bouncing of its own free will, she smooths her hand down his thigh and starts squeezing his knee, earning stronger fits of squirming and yelping that even gets her to laugh. What a meanie.

“You have your own stuff to read, you know.” He huffs after a brutal attack to his hips, having nearly torn his page in half. Richie immediately regrets it though, because he doesn’t want her to stop. He silently prays that she doesn’t move, and whoever’s listening grants him a little mercy.

“I know.” She says, nudging his head with hers. Richie reaches for her hand, thinking he might off himself if she doesn’t take his back, but she does, and they sit like that together for a while, listening to nature do its thing.

“Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?”

She uses her free hand to get at his stomach, and Richie chokes.

“Do your fucking reading.”

——————————

They’re barely three steps through the door before Stan is on Richie like strippers to a pole, pushing him up against the wall and staring him down with so much intensity that Richie doesn’t have enough breath left to ask the obvious question: what the fuck?

He grips his bag with his work outfit inside of it and tries to remember if he did anything particularly annoying on the drive home, but nothing comes to mind other than when he tried to poke Stan’s jaw and he swatted him away. Richie wasn’t actively pursuing anything because that never works with Stan. He’s like a fucking cat that way; if he gets even the slightest bit ruffled, he leaves the room, all indignant and huffy.

Hence, his confusion at this particular stunt.

That doesn’t last long though, because Stan shakes his head slowly and pulls Richie’s hat off his head, tossing it aside without even looking to see where it goes, which is a very unlike-Stan gesture.

“Stan –?“

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

They look at each other, and Richie nearly trips over himself when Stan starts moving them both backwards, towards his room. Normally that might raise some flags, but they’ve been through scenarios like this before. Richie doesn’t really mind getting pushed around (in fact he might even like it a little bit if his first childhood crush is anything to go by) but not knowing the reason is… fishy.

Stan kicks the door closed behind them, still walking Richie backwards, but grabs a hold of his shirt before he can go tumbling back on the bed. “Here’s how this is going to work.”

“Uh –“ Richie’s already on board.

Stan’s grip tightens, and then Richie’s world goes scrambled for three seconds when he gets pushed - fucking pushed, the nerve - onto the bed, Stanley following after him easy as pie and hovering over him, predatory, focused. “I’m going to tickle you.”

Richie can’t hide the way his body almost seems to curve up at that statement. If his body was a temple, it was a temple to some very traitorous limbs. Stan deciding he wants to do anything even close to roughhousing is a special treat, but this one in particular has Richie’s name on it

He realizes after a beat that Stan is waiting for him to say something, and Richie, in true Richie fashion, momentarily forgets the English language. “Uhm - yes?”

“Good. Put your arms up.”

That’s not going to last, but Richie does it, and Stan leans in like the sexy Mr. Rogers that he is and… plucks his glasses off his face, sticking them in his shirt pocket. Friggin thief. When did everyone in this house get so bold? “Hey –“

“Can’t risk breaking them.” Stan answers, fingers already slipping under Richie’s shirt to flutter at his sides. Richie wiggles and his complaint trails off into a snicker. Can’t argue with that anyway he guesses.

Stan tickles him like he does everything else: thoroughly, and with dedication. Quick and nimble fingers drill into the spaces between Richie’s ribs, blunt nails scritching down to his sides, then pulling at his jeans just enough to expose his hips, and Stan’s ducking his head and Richie can fucking see those curls, almost, through his blurry, tear-stained vision, helpless with laughter already, grabbing at the head-board -

– And they pause. Stopping is so much than starting. Richie can feel Stan’s breath against his stomach, where his shirt is rucked up, when he speaks. “When’s the last time you took a shower?”

Through giggle-heavy breath, Richie struggles to answer. “Uhm, like, y-yesterday? Wh- fuhuhUCK!”

He squeals when Stan’s tongue joins the mix, starting at his belly button until he meets the curve of his hip, nibbling along his V-line with so much enthusiasm that Richie thinks he must actually taste like the coffee he smells like. That’s the only explanation for such an assault.

Richie curls in on instinct, hands going for Stan’s hair, but he must anticipate this because he sits up instantly, grabbing Richie’s wrist and glaring at him. Or, he’s probably glaring. He looks like an angry blur at the moment.

It’s…. pretty hot. Not gonna lie.

“I said keep your arms up.” He growls. When Richie slips obediently back into place without question, Stan moves down even further, hoisting Richie’s calve over his shoulder and setting to work again.

The sweeping motion of his fingertips is not as aggressive as before, though it’s probably because they don’t need to be. Even through the denim, that light swishing motion from his thigh to his knee and back again has him cackling, all reserve flying out the window as he scrambles, pulling at the sheets.

Stan pulls at him in response, taking a firm hold of his ankle and scribbling in a relentless, spidery motion at the back of his knee.

Richie 1. Screeches, then 2. Does his best impression of a hula dancer having a seizure.

Apparently breaking the arm-up rule no longer matters at this point, because Richie is just beside himself in the agonizingly sweet, tingly jolts running through his nervous system, spasming on the bed and doing anything within his physical power to get away from it.

Stan doesn’t let go, though, only moves with him, tickling and tickling. Yes, Richie thinks. Please don’t stop. This has to stop. Don’t stop. Don’t let go. Oh god, this is the fucking worst this sucks this is so good, don’t stop, don’t stop –

By the time Stan has thoroughly decimated Richie’s thinking capabilities, having seen to it that both legs have received proper attention, Richie is a curled ball of silent, wheezing laugher in the center of the bed. He takes a deep breath only to let out another fresh peal of laughter, shaking, as Stan lays beside him to rub his shoulder.

“Don’t.” He sighs after a few moments of cool down, as if exasperated, but it sounds fond.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh while you were killing me, I’ll take note of that for next time.” Richie snarks, sniffling and wiping at his eyes.

“No, I mean don’t whine like that.”

Richie whined? “Like what?”

“Like the minute someone stops touching you, it’ll never happen again.” Stan explains patiently, like it’s obvious, twisting one of Richie’s curls around a slender finger and, for now, neglecting to mention how he needs a hair cut.

Oh, that… that – “You don’t know that.” He defends feebly, accepting his glasses when they’re pushed into his palm. Sometimes he forgets how easy it is for Stan to just look at him and see him. It’s unnerving how perceptive he can be, and possibly just as unnerving how much Richie wants to be seen, scary as that might be. He’s had killer clown dreams that terrify him less, and yet.

“I do,” Stan disagrees, making room for Richie to turn over. Neither of them are surprised when Richie ducks his head to hide his face in Stan’s button-up, cheeks burning pink from more than just exertion. “You make it painfully obvious, but it’s a ridiculous fear. There’s six other people in this house. No one’s going to stop touching you unless you ask them to.”

Richie snorts into Stan’s chest. Fat fucking chance.

Still, there’s always that lingering Voice - the one that sounds most like himself - asking him if six people will be enough. Richie Tozier has not one, but six partners and he still wonders if that attention is enough. Talk about high maintenance.

Richie closes his eyes and just enjoys Stan’s hand in his hair, trying not to think about that too much, even as he counts down the seconds to that touch stopping too. “Is it…annoying?”

“That you like tickling? No.” Stan scratches at the base of his neck and Richie hums, pressing closer. “It’s only annoying that you think it’s going to go away.”

Well fuck him, Richie can’t just control how he feels about it, okay? It’s not like he hasn’t tried before. It’s hard, he doesn’t want to think about it, he doesn’t want anything good in his life to ever end, and he especially doesn’t want Stan to stop tracing the curve of his ear like that.

Two fingers tilt his chin up, and Richie blinks back at Stan’s surprisingly soft eyes. “It’s not going to stop.” He murmurs, then kisses Richie’s forehead.

It hits him harder than a baseball bat to the gut. How did Richie Tozier die? It was the curly twink in the bedroom with unconditional love.

That being said, it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate the reassurance, even if it makes him the slightest bit vulnerable. Just a little too open. A little too raw. Tickling allows him to be like that for a short while, and maybe that’s why Richie likes it so much. Instant satisfaction, zero commitment, and it’s fun too. No arcade game or cold shower can scratch an itch for something like that.

He smiles back up at Stan and took his hand so he could kiss the back of it. A moment of mushy, romantic weakness if you will. “Aw, Staniel. You make me blush. If you wanted to woo me so badly you could have put on some judge Judy and those cute little pajama pants, maybe with some ice cream - no, definitely with some ice cream -“

Stan sighs but indulges Richie in his rambling, fingers trailing through his hair all the while. Things have already shifted back into normal territory, but there’s this new, unspoken truce between Richie and this obsession of his - the confirmation that each of his partners knows what he needs, when he needs it, and that they’re not going to drop-kick him out of their lives for asking for it one too many times. It’s nice to have something consistent in his life.

But if those six losers think they don’t have the same exact fate lingering over their heads, they have no idea what force they’re reckoning with. Richie is nothing if not a giver, and he intends to deliver their due retribution.

In full.

#submission #submitted fic #umbrella-babies #I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!! UGH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS #i love love loved it #everyone check out her blog and give her all the love and attention #fic trade #save #for me #tickle fic #ticklefic #poly!losers #poly losers #polylosers #the losers club #it #it 2017 #it 2019 #it fic

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Your Living It

Summary- (Playing It Cool) He x Y/N (later i will give him a proper name besides he or me) Frustrated with the latest romcom, you two go out for some fun. Smut. Fir @official-and-unstable-satan Hope this is what you were hoping for babes.

Word Count- 2.7k

“Babes, can you like, not leave notes all over everything?” You playfully scold as you gather the papers he had scattered across the entire kitchen, and he raced in, throwing his hands up rapidly.

“STOP RIGHT THERE! Babygirl dont you dare move”

Wide eyed you pause, the papers half shuffled together when he comes over and takes them from your hand. His brows furrow as he studies them, before putting them back on the counter just where they were before. “A method to my madness, just… dont clean.”

“But how am I supposed to cook dinner then?” You whinned a bit, arms folding over your chest, and he straightened out some of the papers before turning to you.

“Ummm, pizza? Bowling alley pizza?” You wince a bit and then he adds “With bowling alley beer?” You nod then with a grin and he busts out in a grin to, and wraps an arm around you to pull you in close, kissing your lips quickly. “Thanks for putting up with me, but Im almost done with the script for Bryan and hes been riding my ass for it.”

Your hands smooth along his chest, and up around his neck, he had been STRESSING over this thing for weeks, “Riding your ass and pulling your hair huh? I should really call Bryan and tell him to lay off or else.” You joked, and he wiggled his brows, tickling along your back.

“Well thats better done in person after all. I need to see his reaction” You lean up and catch that grin of his one more time, a more playful teasing kiss with a nibble and trace of tongue before you step away. “Give me five minutes and I will be ready to go.”

“Okay! See you in ten then!” He called over his shoulder and laughed when your middle finger shot up at him and you slammed the bedroom door shut, laughing yourself. Once you closed the door, he went over to his laptop, sitting and staring at the screen. Its cursor blinked at him . “fucken hell” He muttered as he slammed the screen down, frustrated at coming up with the ending.

You pop back out just as he plasters a smile on his face and his eyes rake over your form, even in damn black leggings and a tank, the whole ensamble hugging your curves. Fuck you looked good, You always did. “See! Five minutes.” He gasped as he took your hand to lead you along, fingers wrapping with yours. “A first? One of many? The world may never know.”

What a dumbass, you thought but couldnt help but laugh regardless. Going to the car, you two headed out, while he was driving you texted Scott.

‘Hey buddy, wanna play bowl a round or two, or you to caught up in something?’

‘No! Be there, get that end lane if you can.”

Tossing your phone up on the dashboard just as you two pulled in “Scotts gonna play with us.” And he just nodded, making sure his wallet was in his pocket.

“Good, he whupped my ass last time, time to pay back the favor.”

Sure enough you were able to lock down the lane on the end, while he went to go get a couple heartburn pizza slices and mildly warm beers, grabbing enough for Scott as well, there was nothing quite like bowling alley fare, you test the balls and set to put the names on the screen. Bowler 1- HottStuff 2.Wifeypoo 3.BlueBallMC. He glanced up at the screen and smirked “You really think im Hott Stuff, Wifey?”

You snort just as Scott comes in and also looks at the screen. “What the hell guys, come on!”

You look all innocent and make a pointing motion to your man, wrinkling your nose as if in distaste.

“Seriously dude? Just cause I have a blue ball…. “ he grumbles as he unzips his bag and takes out gloves and a shiny blue ball. You two just pick random ones from the selection.

“What? It wasnt me.” the two of them bicker about the name calling and you take your slice of pizza, nipping on the end with a satisfied grin, putting your feet up in the seat next to you. He takes the first bowl, making a fist pump when it hit just right and scattered the pins across the alley. “I told Y/N i was kicking your ass today Scott”

“As if man… “ Scott is polishing his ball, looking all serious, while you to to take yours. You honestly dont care, your just shooting the ball down the lane, and hands on hips, waiting to see how the pins fall. You get three, well your happy with that. The other two though, it was almost a tie torwards the middle of the set.

“Hey, I will be back, gonna get another pitcher of beer” You offer when you noticed it was down to the dredges, and he poured out the last of it into his cup before handing it over. “Thanks babe” as you walk a little tap on the ass makes you smirk and a little spring in your step.

Taking a quick break while your away, Scott stretches his arms out front of him to stay loose. “So hows that latest script coming by the way? Last message I got from you was a bunch of nonsense about how you suck at anything romantic”

Rubbing his head he sighed “I dont know why Bryan keeps laying these lame ass rom coms on me. I cant write them worth a shit, and they just suck. Im so stuck on a ending now, and my deadline is in just a few days, after already getting an extension.” Carrying on, Scott kinda just shook his head at him. “What?”

“You man, you claim you cant write rom coms worth a shit, but come on. The last two were HUGE box office successes for you and look at you. You are basically living in one.” Scott pointed out as he moved to grab his ball, nodding towards the counter where you were chatting and paying for the beer. His head tilted, he honestly never thought of what you two shared in a movie sense.

“Just saying man…. thats a love story right there without you even knowing it.”

Yea, I am pretty lucky. He thought as you came back over, setting the pitcher down with the utmost care. He leaned forward and caught your hips, dragging you back into his lap. Wiggling in place, your legs draped over his, you mentioned to Scott. “2 more frames and the best bowler wins. Come on Blue Balls MC! You got this!” Red flamed the mans face and you tipped your head back laughing. He was watching you, but in a different light, just capturing the moment for himself. Fuck he was probably one of the luckiest people he knew.

So He won, not by much and as the three of you went to leave, Scott promising a rematch later in the week when the whole group could get together and you were hugging Scott goodbye “Game on, I know Mallory wants to see you kick his ass you know.”

“Oh I plan on it. Im gonna prime up the ball tonight with some new wax.”

“Thats the stuff Scott” you encourage him, and wave as he left, the parking lot mostly empty with the late hour and He came up behind you, sliding his hands against your hips and you felt him brush the raze of his chin against your neck, tipping back with a light sigh.

“You can beat him again baby.”

“I love how you pit us together Y/N” Making you smirk deviously and turn to look up at him.

“Girls gotta have her fun.”

“Yea well, the guy does to.” Backing you up against the car and grasping your chin to tilt your face up, his face lowering close enough to brush his lips against yours. “Im thinking we have some fun right here.” You reach to his belt buckle and tug on it lightly, “Back seat or Front seat?”

His hands were already sliding over your ass and grinding you into his groin. “Mmmhhh back” He let go to open the door, the two of you tumbling in with kisses and hands grabbing at clothes. You laid back as he hovered over you, your legs parting so he could lay between them and continue with sloppy kisses and your hands pushing through the buzzed hairs on his head and down to his back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he rolled them, sure to apply the pressure right at your core, that belt buckle just grinding into your nerves making you gasp right in his mouth. “Fuck baby… “ Scrambling your fingers into his shirt and tugging it over his head.

He rolled yours up and lifting your head, disposed of the tank top on the floor, dropping his head to bite and suck the top of your breasts that were peeking over the top of your bra, he dragged a cup down enough to expose you, drawing that peak between his teeth and rolling lightly before sucking on it, causing another jolt and moan from you, your nails digging in lightly at his shoulder blades, and dragging down. He didnt stop there, lapping his tongue over the aroused peak and did the same with the other, your bra tightly wound around you while your breasts fell out the top, kneading firmly while teasing the tip. Shortly after that he unsnapped it and dragged it off. He knew what that did to you, so sensitive and maddening, soon you were wriggling underneath him and in panting pleas.

“Your driving me insane, I need you. NEED YOU INSIDE ME. Fuck me please?”

“Since you ask so nicely babygirl” He lifts his head, his blue eyes flashing in the street light illuminating a part of your backseat. He grasps your leggings and panties drawing them down. In your impatience, you shift your legs to be rid of them. He hovered over you, dipping his hand between the two of you, teasing your wet warm folds, slicking your arousal up and down.

“Cant wait can you baby? So wet and needy.” Dipping into your core and you tighten around him, needing that sensation. “Greedy is what you are, so tight.”

You nod, and run your hands up and down his biceps, biting your lip. “God yes, so please? Pretty please? Fucking hell, please?” You bucked your hips under his hand and he swept down to kiss you deeply, and jerking at his belt, you purred against his tongue rolling around yours and started helping him, grabbing his belt loops and shimmying his pants down far enough so his cock was free, using your heels and toes to hook in his pants from behind and pull them down further, locking your ankles behind his back.

He tilted your hips a bit more, and grasping his cock, lined up to your entrance, and started to push in. He was slow going at first, taking his time to not hurt you, but fuck that, you werent having none of that and with a roll of your hips, you deep seated him inside of you, hissing from the pure satisfaction while arching.

“Oh shit baby! are you okay?” Your reaction misread by him, you grasp his ass that flexed under your hands and you nod. “Fuck yes, I wanted this, go right ahead!”

Oh babygirl, he did. There was no slowing him down once he knew just what you were looking for. Deep long thrusts filling you, hips rotating to reach all those sensitive spots that had you at first moaning and panting but turned quickly into chanting, your head tipping back against the car door and digging your fingernails into his back, tightening your legs, just drawing him in against you, rutting harder and harder into you.

The broadness of his chest, was friction to your entire body, burning. His mouth traveled down the length of your neck, nipping right at pulse points, and sucking to leave love bites in place. Yea hickeys were a teenage game, but he loved marking you, and you loved the challenge of hiding them. The car started squeaking with the motion of him pounding into you, and you hid your face in his shoulder to keep from laughing as he grunted over you “Baby, fuck im close…. “ You glanced up, and tipped your mouth up to kiss his straining neck, That spiral that settled in your belly soon caught up to his words, and your pussy clenched around his thrusting cock. Slicking a finger to help yourself along, you twirl it around your clit, and start panting. “Me to baby, together?”

Tensing up while trying to leave yourself on the edge till he was ready, his thrusts became erratic plunging and seeking out an ending, you to let go, and scream his name, while arching your entire body, waves of pleasure sparking your eyesight, and above you, his mouth fell open with a deep gasp of your name, sinking himself into you that final time and his cum filled you, coating your walls while you milked him for all of it rolling your hips and clenching around him. His thrusts started to slow, and the car stopped swaying once he stopped and using an elbow next to you, he half leaned against you. His ragged breaths blew hotly against your shoulder and you nuzzled your own face into his neck, breathing him in deeply. You two were simply enjoying the moment when there was a knock on the window and a flashlight shinning in on you.

“Fuck!” He jerked his hand down to the floor and snatched your tank top to cover your chest, lifting his other hand to shield his eyes. Scrambling, him pulling up his pants, and you ducking behind him, he rolled down the window to see a officer looking away on purpose. “Uuuh sorry officer? We were just leaving.”

“I would say so son, we got a call from the closer here said your car was still parked in the lot, and there was some activity going on. How about you head on home and I wont issue a ticket, kay?” You are entirely red at this point and tugging on your clothes as fast as possible while trying to stay hidden behind him, rubbing your face in his back to keep quiet, trying not to laugh about being caught. Of course you two got caught getting randy fucked in the parking lot.

“Right now, right away, thank you officer” He said and once the officer headed away, he rolled up his window quickly and fell back in the seat, deep laughter issuing from him. You sit next to him and sputter a bit, but he wraps you in his arms and tugs you in against him, kissing your neck, or trying to. It was mostly him huffing, and you to get caught up in it. “Baby we better get home, were lucky we didnt get in trouble.”

“Yea, we probably should” He agreed, but was soon distracted in kissing you again and drawing out deep moans, a flicker of red and blue lights light up your car and you two broke apart, opening the back door and crawling out into the front seats. With a turn of the engine, you two left, the cop following you along till you were closer to home.

Once you two reached the apartment building and made it inside without anymore incidences, you shrug out of your coat while he wanders back over to his laptop and opens it up like hes about to settle into typing again. “Handsome you sure you wanna do that?” You ask as you head down the hallway towards the bedroom.

“But I thought of a perfect ending” He states, clearly distracted to your actions outside of the bedroom door. But as soon as your bra slingshots right into his chest and falls in his lap, his eyes widen as he looks up at you, your back to him, shimmying down your leggings for a second time, he snapped it shut once again. “Sorry Bryan, day late again.” He he raced down the hallway, catching you and dropping you down on the bed.

He really was living his own romantic comedy.

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @jtargaryen18

#chris evans #buzzcutchris #playing it cool #spur of the moment fic #he can pound me in the backseat #and we can bowl to

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Notebook or Post-It -(Kamjie) -[Chapter 2] - Black_Magic

Hey guys, here is chapter 2. It gets a little steamy, so be prepared. SMUT WARNING!

After finishing off the rest of the bottle, we made the responsible decision to go back to the hotel. Luckily, we happened to not drink a bunch. It was a relief to be walking straight and not stumbling over our own feet. “Hey, thanks for the drinks.” Kameron turned to me and smiled, showing his gorge…..I mean nice pearly white teeth.

“No problem, Vanj.” We got to the hotel and walked up the old wooden stairs to the second floor. Our rooms were near each other. Two other rooms separated us. Michelle and Yvie. Yvie goes back and forth between our leg of the tour, and the other one. The winner has to be flexible for all of the fans, pun not intended. I know that bitch has got to be asleep by now. I saw how exhausted she was after the show.

Anyways, we stood at Kameron’s door. I didn’t want to end the night yet. It was still early. “Well, Kam, I guess this the end of a fun night.”

He pulled me into a warm hug. I didn’t have to think twice about hugging him back. I was waiting for one all night. I have to admit, Kameron is one of the best huggers I know. I think the others would be Momma Alexis, Michelle, and…..someone I will not mention. I won’t think about him. I shouldn’t do that anymore. I need to live in the present so I can stop feeling sorry for myself. “Yeah, I guess it is.” I realized that this might be too long of a hug for friend standards, so I let go and tried to pull away. Try is the key word. Kameron held onto my arms so we were still in contact with each other. “We don’t have to end the night yet.”

My heart skipped a beat. He’s trying to make the night last longer too! “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What exactly did you have in mind?” Child, when I tell you my heart was beating as fast as I can dance. It sounded so loud, I thought Kameron could hear it too.

“Wanna come in for a few rounds?” He said in a low voice. It almost sounded like a whisper. His voice sounded hoarse. It made my whole body tense up. I can’t say no.

“Yeah, I’m down.” Kameron released me from his strong grip and lead me into his dark hotel room. He switched the light on and walked to his bed, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the bed beside his bags. I followed and sat on his bed while he searched through his bag for something. He pulled out a black DS from his bag and handed it to me. He grabbed one for himself and turned it on.

I know what you were thinking. I bet you’re disappointed. Well guess what? So was I! “We do five rounds of Mario Kart and then do whatever we want.” I nodded and let Kameron set up the game. The first round started and I put my game face on. Obviously, I won the first round. Although, two more rounds go by and I realized it wasn’t luck. He let me win first and the other four times, Kameron won by a long shot.

It wasn’t too bad, though. I’ll tell you why, because I got some tea to spill, sis! While we were playing round two, I had moved closer to him so we were touching. Kameron did take a second to look at what I was doing. That caused him to fall into second place and he had to get back into first.

Right before the third round, Kameron linked our arms together. I thought it was a sign of him wanting to be physically closer. We did round three. Nothing really happened. Just us racing around. I finished in second, almost passing Kameron on the last turn. After that race was done, Kameron chuckled. “Bitch, why are you laughing?”

“No reason, girl.” He bit his lip, which kind of distracted me.

What round are we on now? Oh, right! It’s the fourth round. So our arms are still linked together. Which if you are someone who wants to win, but flirt at the same time, you use it to your own advantage. Kameron decided he was going to jerk me around while we’re linked together. It caused trouble for me. He made it difficult for me. I tried to do it back, but Kameron is too strong. He stayed solid like a damn statue. No surprise, but that cheating whore won again.

I unlooped my arm from Kameron so we were both free. I had an idea. This is where the fun begins. It’s the last race and tensions are high. Well, not really. Not for Kameron………yet. The damn key word is yet, bitch! We start the last round. The room fills with the sounds of the games. I let the first lap happen without any distractions. With the second one, I began with my plan to distract Kameron so I could win. I glanced at him a few times. He was sucked in and focused on the screens.

I blew at his face. He blinked his eyes and nudged me. I blew softly at his ear. “Quit that, Vanj.” I began to poke at his side. He squirmed and tried not to laugh. “I’m serious, stop doing that.” By now I’m not paying attention and Kameron won again. “What is up with you? Are you being a sore loser?” I shrugged, not really having an answer for that. “Not answering, huh? Fine, I’ll make you answer.” I jumped up and ran towards the door. Kameron grabbed me and threw me back on the bed. He jumped on top of me, hovering over me on his hands and knees. I laughed nervously, dreading what he would do. “Something funny?” I continued to laugh and shook my head. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, bitch.” I said in between laughing. One of his hands moved from the side of my head to my waist. I involuntarily squirmed. “Wait, don’t touch me there.” He squeezed his hand causing me to squirm again with a giggle. “No, bitch! I’m super ticklish.” Kameron’s smile changed into an evil smirk. “Kam, don’t you dare!” It was no use because he sat on my legs before ticking me. He made sure I couldn’t escape his little “attack.” I couldn’t stop laughing. I found it hard to catch my breath. He stopped tickling my sides and I took half breaths while trying not to laugh more.

“Are you good?” I nodded, not taking full breaths. “Aren’t you gonna breathe, bitch?” I shook my head frantically. “You afraid I’ll tickle you again?” I nodded my head. “I’ll let you take a few breaths, go ahead.” I cautiously let myself inhale and exhale normally. Without warning, he tickled me again as I suspected. I was moving my whole body to try and get away. I couldn’t leave. He had me pinned, only using his legs.

“Ok, ok!” Kameron stopped to listen. I mumbled I wanted him to stop. He moved so he was lying on top of me. He asked what I said. “Bitch, I said-” I took a moment to breathe and giggle. “I said truce. I’m exhausted from laughing. I couldn’t breathe.”

Kameron smiled and agreed to stop with the tickle attack. He reached his hand up to fix my hair. I guess I messed it up when I was squirming around. Our eyes met and we stilled all movements. Our gazes held. I feel more connected to Kam from how many times we looked into each other’s eyes tonight. That especially includes right now since we’re alone together. “You know how people say I’m the trade of season ten?”

“That’s because you are, Kam.” He rolled his eyes at me. I guess he was trying to have a moment.

“My point is, I watched season eleven. I thought you were fierce. I thought for sure you should have been in the top four.” I smiled at him. I can’t believe he thinks that.

“That’s not all. I observed every single person in that room. None were like you. I think you’re the trade of season eleven.” I felt my face heat up, signaling I was blushing.

“Is this your way of flirting with me? Skipping the cheesy stuff and going straight to telling me I’m trade.”

Kameron snickered and met my eyes again. “Yeah, is it working?”

I brought my hand up so it gripped the back of his neck. I brought him down closer to me with no resistance. I captured his lips with anticipation. I had been craving his soft lips all night. We broke away. I felt my body freeze. Fuck, what did I just do! Did I make a mistake? “Does that answer your question?”

Kameron closed his eyes for a moment. Almost as if he needed to gain control of himself. Which, I think was the case. When he opened them, I felt chills go through my body. His eyes were a shade darker and his pupils were dilated. His lips were parted and I could see he had goosebumps on his body. At this point, I could feel a need rise in me. I want that was so strong. Kameron lowered himself again to kiss me. I reciprocated, and went along with his slow, yet agonizing pace. I wanted more. I needed more. My body craved his skin against mine. He picked up the speed of the kiss and I felt his hands roam over my body.

There was a voice in the back of my head telling me to stop. I pulled away and pushed on his chest, as if I was gonna hold him back. “Don’t start something you wouldn’t finish.” My voice sounded hoarse. I scared myself because I almost didn’t recognize my own voice. I can’t believe my body is reacting this way. We were just making out. Nevertheless, I had stopped him in fear that we would regret doing this. “I want you, Jose.”

That’s all the confirmation I needed. Once I let go, he attacked my lips again. His hands were roaming my body once again. They trailed down my sides, slowly making his way to my hips. All the while, he bit my lower lip, which caused a moan to erupt from my throat. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue in.

His roaming hands went under my shirt. He stopped kissing me, which gave me the chance to quickly catch my breath. He tugged on the end of my shirt. I opened my eyes to see what he wanted for me to do. I assumed we had to undress now. “Take everything off.” He left the bed and waited for me. I slid off like he did and took my shirt off. He joined in and we both stripped together. I kicked off my boxers and saw Kameron just finished too.

Kameron approached me and continued our hot make out from earlier. My right hand rubbed over his chest, occasionally brushing his nipples. My left trailed down his muscular body down to his half hard cock. I took the time to give it attention and stroked it. He reacted with a small moan, but gripped my ass. This caused my semi hard cock to grow harder. I then stroked both of ours at the same time.

He lead me backwards until I felt the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs. We slowly crawled on so our lips won’t part just yet. I let my back hit the cool comforter of the bed, which smelled of bleach.

I felt him catch my tongue in between his teeth. My whole body reacted. My lower half bucked into his. We both parted suddenly as Kameron moaned and squeezed his eyes shut. I moved so his leg was in between my thigh. He wrapped an arm around my back to help me sit up. My hands gripped his shoulders as I moved to create friction for the both of us. A moan could be heard from the room. I was gone from the pleasure, so I had no clue who it came from. We found a rhythm to follow. My lips parted as I moaned. It felt so good, just grinding into his leg. “Oh, fuck.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough. We were aching for more. “Get on your stomach.” I did as I was told. It was then that I realized our legs were we from precum. That drove me crazy. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. He reached into the drawer next to the bed. He grabbed a bottle of lube and a condom. He opened the bottle and squirted some on his fingers and around my hole. I jumped, forgetting how cold it felt. He chuckled, obviously amused by this. “Alright, here we go.”

He inserted the first digit slowly. I moaned as he moved it in and out. “More, I need more.” He did as I requested and added the second. “Oh yeah, that’s it.” He pumped his fingers, earning a satisfied moan from me. I closed my eyes, loving the feel of his fingers. He did have to do much work to stretch me out. He removed his fingers from me. I whined, missing the contact. I looked behind me and watched him open the wrapper. He rolled the condom on and eagerly lubed himself up. I smiled, feeling eager as well. He put more lube on me, just in case. He lined up and pushed all the way in. “Shit, fuck!” He waited for me to get used to him.

“You good?” I had buried my face into the bed.

“Yeah, now move.” He moved at a moderate place. “Fuck, yeah. Fuck me, Dane.” Kameron was moaning his own profanities. I couldn’t speak much. He felt so good. I could hear our skin slapping together. “Oh, oh fuck!”

“Fuck, Jose you feel great.” I gripped the fabric of the bed. I moaned, loving the compliment.

“Fuck, go faster. Fuck me harder!” I said into the bed. He heard me clearly because he pounded harder and faster into me, sending waves of pleasure through me. “Fuck, Dane!” Those were the only words that made sense to me. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but Kameron pounding into me. I think he was going hard enough to move the creaking bed. I definitely felt my body move with his. We were in sync with each other.

Kameron moved on of my legs up. I felt him adjust his angle some. He pulled almost all out before pounding into me again. “Fuck!” We both yelled. My body went into overdrive. He found my prostate and kept hitting it. “Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Fuck, Dane. Yeah, right there! I’m getting close!” I could feel it in my gut. I reached under me to stroke my throbbing cock that was begging for attention. I stroked it in time with his thrusts. Within a minute, I came hard on the bed. “Shit!”

A few more thrusts, and he followed suit. He moaned, stopping all movements. After he came down from his climax, he pulled out of me and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I had my eyes closed, feeling exhausted.

He eventually came back and flipped me over. He helped me stand up so he could take off the top comforter. He cleaned me off with a towel and helped me lie down on the bed. He joined me, sighing as his head hit the pillow. We looked at each other and smiled. “Go to sleep. You’ve had an eventful night.” I nodded and curled into Kameron’s warm body. I felt myself quickly drift off to sleep while he combed his fingers through my damp hair.

#rpdr fanfiction #kamjie #kameron michaels #vanessa vanjie mateo #michelle visage #yvie oddly #smut #notebook or post it #black magic

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Lion kings and cheetah queens; Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all! In honor of you all helping me reach 1K followers, I’ve been working on this oneshot for a few days and finally while on my Spring break I’ve finally came around to finishing it and posting it up today. After doing so many romantic Brian May fics, I’ve decided to do our drummer boy Roger Taylor. Now this can be read as either Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor or the real man himself :)

Now there’s no warnings at all but just pure, unadulterated, teeth-fotting, family domicile FLUFF!!! I think I may even have to pay the bills from ya’ll dentists lol. Anyways I hope you all like this fic and I hope I did some good research as you will find out. Real People do NOT belong to me, I am just doing this fic for entertainment purposes only.

Also for those that are interested in wanting to compete in my 1k contest, below is the link to the rules that you will need to follow. Hope to see more people take part in this contest, I’d really like to get to know more people and see that my followers and readers engage more with me. Enjoy reading my lovelies :)

Link to contest

Queen Taglist:

@alexfayer

__________________________________________________

It was a typical day at the Taylor household. In the backyard with the giant garden that looked more like a forest or a jungle with all the flowers, bushes and trees surrounding the property, which was perfect for the two children playing in it. A young boy around 4 years old with blonde hair and blue eyes was racing through the bushes softly laughing to himself.

He peeked out from the bushes grinning the same grin that he inherited from his father before going back in the bush and racing onward.

“She’ll never expect me coming.” He said to himself. He came out from the bushes and spotted his target. A young girl 1-2 years younger than him with long (h/c). “I’m going to sneak up behind her and surprise her.” He whispered so softly so that the girl just several feet in front of him wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Soon like a lion on the prowl he crawled towards the girl before standing up and racing towards her and tackling her as he said,

“Boo!” He tackled the girl down to the ground and the girl said.

“Rufus no fair! I was supposed to be seeking you!”

“You were taking too long Lotte. So I thought I’d surprise you instead.” The boy now known as Rufus said to the girl he called Lotte. “Alright sis it’s your turn. Go on you hide and I’ll come look for you now.”

“Okay but no cheating, you always cheat.”

“Do not!”

“Do to!”

“Do not!”

“Do to!”

“Do not!” Rufus exclaimed before sticking his tongue out at his sister.

After a bit of arguing they finally decided to stop as Lotte now went to go find a hiding place now in the labyrinth garden. Rufus raced back a couple of feet and began counting.

“One two three four five six seven ninety-nine one hundred!” He raced into the garden and proclaimed, “Ready or not here I come!” He looked high and low but couldn’t find his sister anywhere. “I know she’s around her somewhere.” He then saw a bit of ruffling from a nearby bush. Rufus raced towards it and said as he tackled his sister once more, “Ha-ha! Found you!” The two of them began to playfully wrestle for a bit before stopping as Lotte said.

“Hey Rufus, wanna try and see if we can sneak up on dad?”

“Yeah good idea Lotte. Let’s go find him!” The two of them raced out of the garden and across the backyard to see if they could find their father.

In one of the sheds, Roger Taylor was polishing up one of his boats checking to make sure everything was in shape before he would treat his family to a weekend at the lake after being away for so long, plus his wife needed a break from all the rigorous training she’s been doing lately for the Olympics.

The two young kids found their dad in the shed and Lotte giggled but Rufus shushed her telling her to be quiet. The two kids snuck up of the drummer unaware that he had already knew that his children were planning something.

“Okay you go around and I’ll stay back here.” Rufus whispered to his sister, she nodded and snuck off to the side while Rufus stalked right behind his dad much like he did to his sister a few minutes ago. But just before Rufus could surprise his dad, Roger let out a roar and swooped down and picked up his son over his shoulder upside down while Rufus was screaming playfully trying to break free.

“You kids may think you’ve mastered the ambush attack, but you’ll never be as good as the king. Now what to do with this amateur hmm?” Roger then began to spin around with his son still on his shoulder.

“Lotte! Ruhuhuhun!!!” He managed to cry out and soon his sister raced out of the shed trying to find a hiding spot. As she ran, she was suddenly picked up and held against a strong chest and Roger’s voice said in her ear.

“And where do you think you’re going little cheetah?”

“Daddy let go!” Lotte giggled out.

“No I don’t think I will, now what punishment shall you receive compared to the lion cub I just captured?” He hummed in thought as he sat down on the grass but keeping his daughter tight in his arms, “I think I’m seeing more spots than last time, let’s count them shall we?” At that point Lotte’s eyes grew big. Because he father’s idea of counting her ‘cheetah spots’ were tickling them out of her.

She tried to escape but her father brought her in closer into his lap, his legs trapping her like a cage as he began counting, starting at around her neck. Lotte giggled and squirmed at her father’s tickly fingers as she laughed out.

“Daddy! Stohahahp ihihit!”

“Your squirming is only going to make me lose count, stand still you little squirmy cub. Let’s see where was I? Oh yes five, six, oh I spy seven right here on that tummy of yours.” He said as he now began tickling her bellybutton.

“THAT’S NOT A SPOT!!” She cried out through her laughter.

“You sure about that? It definitely looks like a spot to me.” Lotte kept laughing at her father’s tickle torture when suddenly Roger was tackled by his son Rufus. He managed to bring his father down and he cried out.

“I GOT HIM! I GOT HIM LOTTE! LET’S GET HIM NOW!!” It was then the two children began to playfully attack their father like a real lion and cheetah cub would do in the wild.

“Oh no they’ve finally got me! They’re too strong! C’mon pick on someone your own size don’t….Help! Help me!” As the three Taylor family members continued to play around, they were unaware they were being watched.

*My POV*

I had just returned from my morning training with Yuri when I could hear my husband’s voice crying from the backyard. I raced over thinking that someone was wrong but when I saw that it was just him and the kids playing around I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Now I bet you’re wondering how does an Olympic gold medalist like me managed to snag and claim Roger Taylor, drummer of Queen as her husband?

It’s quite a funny story how we met. It was just after my second Olympic run back in 1976. Now you’d think that Queen would be performing at the Olympics and that’s how we met right? Well you’re half right.

Queen had celebrated a successful world tour at the time and were at my favorite pub. Of course the news of the Olympics were all over London and I was getting stopped everywhere I went for my win for the UK. And it was at that pub that I had met Roger when he tried to flirt with me, using the famous “Roger Taylor” charm.

With his long blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and quick wit tongue that can get any girl falling for him, he thought I would be another easy target. But I hadn’t earned the nickname (Y/n) “The Cheetah” (l/n) from Yuri for nothing. My wit was just as quick if not quicker than his, as was my sass as I denied him right there on the spot. But of course like any other lion they are relentless. Eventually I was able to tame this lion and made him more docile and in 1978, he asked me to marry him and we’ve been happily married for six years now.

I was about ready to train for the 1980 summer Olympics when I had found out that I was pregnant with Roger’s child. I had no choice but to pull out that year since I couldn’t compete. I felt like I was letting my whole country down that year but a good friend of mine Serena took over for me that year and we managed to get second place which wasn’t too bad but I still felt like I had dishonored the UK.

But after the birth of our son, I knew I had won a different goal that day. Motherhood was tough and I thought I’d never be able to do it, but thanks to Roger as well as the other members of Queen plus Chrissie and Veronica, I was able to not screw up and became the best mother I could be. Barely a year later, we had another baby, our sweet girl Charlotte but we all just call her Lotte.

Each of our kids resembled both Roger and I. Rufus was a splitting image of his dad from his tuff of blonde hair and charming blue eyes, right down to his mannerisms and behavior. While Lotte, she’s like me in appearance but she can be a little more reserved compared to her brother, but when she needs to be, she can be pretty feisty just like me.

And I’ll admit I was scared to think of how Roger would take to fatherhood. After all I knew of his reputation, plus he never really screamed out ‘father material’ but the day Rufus was born, it was like something switched in him, like his son became his whole world and nothing was going to tear him away from his boy.

And when Lotte came along, oh god poor Rog was a wreck. He refused to let her go saying that only he could protect her, he already was making death threats to any boy that looked her way and promised to be there for her no matter what.

I walked a bit closer to observe the rare domestic playing that Roger could have with his children after a long tour schedule and saw as Roger pretended to groan in agony before collapsing dramatically with his head hung to the side and mouth open and tongue hanging out the side, the classic ‘playing dead’.

“Dad? You’re not dead.” Rufus said as he sat on his father’s chest. Roger’s head shot up as he said.

“Nope!” Making out kids shriek and laugh as Roger joined in their laughter and held each of the kids close to him.

“I leave you lot for a couple of hours and already you’ve managed to make yourselves filthy.” I said making myself known.

“Mummy!” Lotte cried out as she raced towards me. I picked up my daughter and gave her a kiss to the top of her head and I asked her.

“Now what were you kids doing to get yourselves so dirty?”

“We were playing hide and seek lions and cheetahs style.” Answered Rufus as Roger leaned up to normal sitting position and pulling his son into his lap.

“Ahh that explains a lot. And so I’m going to assume that you invited the king to play along?” I said staring right at Roger who grinned.

“We wanted to see if we could finally sneak up on him and surprise him. But Rufus said I was too loud.”

“Cause you were!” he exclaimed.

“Alright, alright no need to yell at your sister Rufus. Now apologize to her right now.” Said Roger. Rufus turned to his father as Roger looked down at him and raised his brow telling him to do it.

“I’m sorry Lotte.”

“It’s okay.” I set her down and the two of them hugged it out.

“Alright now both of you head inside and wait for me in the loo, we’ll have to have your baths a little earlier than usual.” Our kids soon raced inside the house and I shook my head softly.

“Those two certainly are a handful at times.” Said Roger.

“They get it from you mostly, especially Rufus.” I said. He feigned a mock hurt as he placed his hand over his heart and moaned in agony.

“Oh you’ve wounded me my love, ahh it hurts, it hurts, just put me out of my misery.” He then fell over in front of my feet with his arm over his eyes. I couldn’t help but giggle as I said.

“You are such a drama Queen, even worse than Fred.”

“But you know you love me for it.” He said as his arm raised up and he peeked at me with them baby blue eyes of his. I then got down on the ground and hovered over him and said.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. You’re just gonna have to find that out for yourself Mr. Taylor.”

“Ahh but I know it, otherwise you wouldn’t have married me, Mrs. Taylor.” Roger said as he wrapped his hands around my neck trying to bring me downward until our lips melded together. As he tried to deepen the kiss, I broke away from him and said.

“Rog I’m sweaty and disgusting, I need to shower before we continue this.”

“Never stopped us before, remember back that concert back in ’77. It was just after a Queen concert, I took you into my dressing room and you—” he then began whispering seductively in my ear the events of what happened that night.

“Rog this is—this is different I—” I moaned softly before letting out a slight giggle from his hot breath tickling my ear. “No, no Rog I won’t fall for it again!” I stated firmly but was suddenly pinned on my back with Roger now hovering over me.

I couldn’t help but grin up at him and I stroked his cheek with my index finger as I muttered.

“Damn your cute face.” He smirked down at me and I said to him out loud, “You think I can’t resist you?”

“Do you want to resist me?” he said with that cute puppy dog tilt of his head.

“No. But I would like you to ask nicely so that I don’t feel like the bad guy here.” He shrugged his shoulder and said as he leaned downward.

“At least I’d have a beautiful villain being cruel to me.” He captured my lips once more and we softly made out for a few more seconds. I pushed against his chest and I told him.

“The kids are waiting for me, then I’ve got to shower.” I got out from underneath him and stood back up and walked towards the house.

“Mind if I join you once your shower starts?”

“The last time you asked me that is how we ended up with Lotte.” I said as I turned toward him. I walked backwards for a bite before turning back around and walked inside our house.

After giving the kids their baths and cleaning the dirt off their faces from playing in the garden, I then went into my bathroom and showered to clean off the sweat and oil off my body from a hard workout.

This was my first hardcore training session in awhile to help prepare me for the upcoming summer Olympics and Yuri was working my ass off to no end. Especially since this was my first Olympic competition in over 8 years. My muscles were sore and jelly but the hot water eased the tension in my muscles. I let out a moan as I just allowed the water to hit me when suddenly I felt arms wrap around me. I would’ve slipped had it not been for Roger.

“Damnit Roger I’ve told you not to sneak up on me like that especially when I’m showering.”

“Sorry love I couldn’t help it, besides you’ve been overworking yourself. Let your man clean and pamper you up.” I felt him kiss my cheek as he pulled me close to him. I debated and then spoke out.

“No sexual games this time.”

“I swear, nothing sexual. At least for today,” I heard him mutter, I hit his shoulder which made him laugh and he continued, “I’m kidding. But seriously though love, let me take care of you.”

“Alright Rog.” And just as he promised, he helped clean me up. He used my favorite body wash and gently went over and massaged all over my arms, shoulders and calf muscles. Once my body was cleaned, he took my shampoo and washed my hair for me, his fingers gently combing through my hair and massaging my scalp. I let out a soft moan and he said.

“Careful love, don’t want to start something now do we?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter and keep washing drummer boy.” I could feel him smirking as he kept washing my hair until it was time to head back under the showerhead and allow the water to rinse away the shampoo. He groomed through my hair in order to help the shampoo get rinsed out.

Once I was cleaned and satisfied, we both left the shower and dried off before putting on our bathrobes.

“Thank you Rog, I really needed that.”

“Who says that I’m done?” I looked at him skeptically and he continued, “Go lie on the bed love, I need to get some things out from here. And don’t ask any more questions”

“What are you planning Roger Taylor?”

“I just told you, you can’t ask any more questions.” I chuckled at him and said.

“Okay, okay don’t go throwing our TV set out the window.” He shook his head and I left the loo and went to lay on our bed. The mattress felt like heaven as it helped ease the muscles in my lower back and it was then Roger came out with a bottle of lotion.

“Mademoiselle, I’m Roger Taylor and I will be your masseuse for this morning’s session.” He grabbed one of the pillows that we normally don’t sleep with but keep it as decoration for the bedroom and he lifted my legs and placed the pillow underneath my calves and set my legs down on the pillow.

He took the lotion and squirted some in his hands before rubbing them together. He then took my right leg first and began to massage it. I threw my head back against the pillows and moaned softly.

“Mrs. Taylor I must say you’ve got knots in your knots along your calf muscles. Haven’t you been treating them?”

“Juan does his best but he’s been sick lately so the past few training sessions I couldn’t get him up, and of course Yuri can’t massage for shit, he gives the worst massages that I’ve ever seen, it’s like pure torture.”

“Aww poor madam. Well I promise this will be the finest massage you will ever hope for.” He went lower and moved his fingers in a slow, circular motion and I moaned softly. After that, he moved over and began to do my left calf muscles doing the same top to bottom soft circular motion from the bottom of my knee down the just before my ankles.

Once my legs had been massaged, he then sat in front of my feet and began to massage them. First taking my left foot and using his thumbs to go counter-clock wise around my soles. He then moved up to just underneath my toes before moving down to my heels.

“The tension is more on the soles than anything, you don’t have to worry about anywhere else.” I told him.

“Understood, just focus on the soles then.” He then went back to the soles and as I told him he kept massaging around that area. After awhile he then moved to my right foot and did the same thing focusing on the soles. When my feet were done being massaged he then told me. “Okay now may I ask you to remove your robe so that I can do your back?”

“Getting a little personal aren’t we? I don’t think my husband would appreciate it.” I teased.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. But he must be a lucky man if what I think is under that robe is true.” I grinned at him and untied my robe and slowly turned onto my stomach and removed the bathrobe and lay on my stomach exposing my back.

I soon felt his lotioned hands on my shoulders and I groaned out a moan.

“Oh Mrs. Taylor you are so tense.” He cooed out.

“It’s called raising two children and stressing of having the entire UK on your ass to win and redeem themselves from the last summer Olympics.”

“It’s too much stress it’s piling up on you darling. Thank god I’m here for you now.” He said as he began to massage around my lower back.

After several more minutes he stopped and said.

“Okay, I’m done. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been recharged. To what do I owe you Mr. Taylor for your services?” I said as I grabbed the robe and put it back over me as I faced my husband.

“For a house call I’d normally charge 20 dollars per hour. But for being such a beautiful woman and a wonderful mother to our children, I’ll accept a kiss, maybe a quick shag.” I slapped his arm at the last part which made him chuckle and he cried out, “I’m kidding! But not about the kiss though, so what do you say Mrs. Taylor, care to give us a kiss?” I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck and our lips met in a soft, yet passionate kiss.

With such a rare day like this when both Roger and I have some time off, we spent it with the kids watching a random animal documentary on the BBC. Of course Roger never really liked it when we’d play it because he’s obviously still pissed at the fact that they forced Queen to ‘fake-play’ Killer Queen on Top the Pops. But when it came to the kids, he was willing to swallow his pride and watch it for them.

They were doing a documentary on Africa’s big cats and when the cheetah came up on the screen Lotte said.

“Look mumma that’s you!” I smiled down at my girl and ruffled her hair and said.

“Yep, that’s mummy.”

“Cheetahs are my favorite animal mumma, know why?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because they’re super-fast, very, very quick and brave, and caring to their babies, just like you mummy.” I awed at my daughter and hugged her close and kissed her cheek while Rufus scoffed and said.

“But they’re not as tough or strong as the lions are. They’re so big, they have a huge family, and the male lions have that huge mane. They can take down larger animals than them and they’re super strong, just like you dad.”

“Ahh that’s my boy.” Roger said as he picked up Rufus and placed him on his lap.

“Cheetahs can outrun lions any day though.” Lotte relented back at her brother.

“Cannot!” Rufus proclaimed.

“Can to!”

“Cannot!”

“Can to!”

“Cannot!”

“Alright you two that’s quite enough of that.” Roger began. “Now how about we compromise, agree that out of any big cats in the world lions and cheetahs are the best of the best. Agreed?” The kids grumbled and whined a bit but they agreed. “After all kids, in the end the lion did get what he wanted to in the end, even though the cheetah was feisty and sharp-witted. But it was all worth it in the end.” Roger said as he stared right up at me.

“Well the lion shouldn’t have been too cocky, otherwise the cheetah might have been a little more receptive. But cheetahs know when to sniff out arrogance and big egos. But in the end she was able to tame the wild lion king.” I spoke as I stroked his cheek with my index finger making him smile at me.

A few hours later after putting the kids down for their afternoon nap, Roger and I finally got to spend some quality time alone. He sat down at the floor next to the couch and hand my knees over his shoulders. My fingers were currently combing through his hair as Roger leaned back against my thighs moaning softly.

“I’ll never forget the day we started this lion-cheetah family scenario. Rufus took one look at you and at a stuffed lion from the toy store and pointed at it and called it ‘dada’.”

“At least he didn’t point to the hedgehog.” He said.

“And I will admit he’s not wrong. With this hair of yours all wild and long like this, especially after a concert, you definitely look like a lion.” Roger then turned and looked up at me but said not a word. “What?” His eyes soon sparked that mischievous gleam as he removed my legs from his shoulders and got into a pouncing position. “No Roger don’t you dare!” I then tried to escape but he quickly grabbed me by the waist and threw me down on the couch.

He crawled over on top of me and hovered over me smirking down at me and he said as his nose brushed against mine.

“And I thought cheetahs were supposed to be fast?”

“Well we are but you cheated.”

“Oh my love, all’s fair in love and war. And when it comes to survival of the fittest, the lion will always prevail. Now let me hear you say it.”

“I would rather die than surrender defeat to a lion like you.” He merely nodded and then his look changed to a more darker tone as his smirk grew more sinister. I knew exactly what was going through his mind and I begged him, “No Rog don’t you dare! I swear to god if you do it I’ll—” but it was too late.

His fingers danced around my sides and stomach. I squirmed and tried to get out of his grip but he held firm and wouldn’t let up.

“ROGER! STOHAHP!!”

“Say that you’ll submit to the king and then I’ll stop.” He said as he kept tickling me. I kept laughing and begging for him to stop but he refused to listen. After what felt like an eternity, through his own will, Roger finally stopped and had his face right up to mine. His nose pressed against my cheek before trailing up towards my nose.

“(Y/n),”

“What?” I asked. His lips soon softly captured mine and I softly moaned into the kiss. I felt his hand cup the left side of my face, his thumb grazing over my cheek. He separated from me but only by about an inch, his warm breath dancing across my face.

“Be my lion queen?” I giggled softly and said to him.

“For you? I could convert, but don’t tell anyone.” I said the last part sternly. He smiled down at me and pressed his lips against mine and we softly made out right up until the kids came racing down the stairs.

*Extended ending*

It was finally time. I had been training for months and now it was finally hear. The 1984 Summer Olympics, held in Los Angeles, California. I knew the kids would be watching from home on the Telly with Roger and my mum and dad.

I was in the locker room taking a few deep breaths trying to get my mind back into the mind set before the track and field runners went up. Yuri came up to me and he asked me.

“How you doing champ?”

“Going back to the first time I ran this course and just barely made the gold medal. I say I’ve got some butterflies.”

“Well I have a feeling you’re gonna do great out there, and hey you listen to me; win or lose today you’re still a champ to me champ.” I smiled at my coach and thanked him. He hugged me and kissed the top of my head and said. “You ready cheetah?”

“Ready.” He patted my shoulder and I took a couple of quick breaths before racing out of the locker room and met up with the other runners competing and soon we all raced out of the tunnel and into the track field hearing the audience screaming and roaring in applause. We all went to the starting line and stretched ourselves out for the 800 meter run.

“And we see from Team Britain (Y/n) ‘the Cheetah’ Taylor has finally returned to redeem the loss Britain took from the last summer’s Olympics.” I could hear the announcers say over the speaker.

“Tom this woman truly takes the name seriously. 2 time Olympic gold medalist. Won her first Olympics at just the age of 24, and here she is to reclaim the pride for Team Britain.” I raised my first in the air and the fans for Great Britain cheered and held up signs with my name decorated with cheetah spots on them.

“LADIES! Take your marks!!” The referee called out. I lined up with the girls and crouched down on my hands and dancing at the balls of my feet. Sweat was already running down my face as the only sound I could hear was my heartbeat. I saw the ref hold out his gun that would shoot out blank bullets to sound off the call of when to begin.

I looked down at my wristbands, well my husband’s wristbands that he’s worn at most of his concerts that he given to me just for this Olympic season and I could feel his spirit with me. The timer sounded off and the ref held the gun in the air. Time stood still until finally.

BANG!!

I then took off sprinting as fast as I could with the other female runners closing in right behind me or starting to get ahead of me. The crowd applauded as loud as they could as we came to the first turn.

“And Doina Melinte from Team Romania is head of all the other racers followed by Kim Gallagher from Team USA and Fiţa Lovin of Team Romania. While in 4th place (Y/n) the “cheetah” Taylor is starting to tire out.”

“Seems like the cheetah’s been out of the game too long Marv.”

“Oh wait what’s this the Cheetah is making a comeback! She’s passing Fiţa and Kim and now she’s tied with Doina as they’re coming around the final lap!”

“Oh this could be a close one!” I wasn’t going to give up. Not here, not now I’ve worked my ass off too hard to come in fourth place. I sped up as fast as I could unleashing the real cheetah within me as I finally caught up with the Romanian runner Doina.

She and I stared at each other before trying to out run the other. The two of us neck and neck as we reached the final stretch.

“It’s gonna be a close one!” Finally the two of us crossed the finish line together and the crowd went wild. I skid to a stop as I leaned down on my knees breathing heavily and I could hear the announcers screaming over each other about who exactly won.

“Nice job kid, you ran like the cheetah I knew you always were.” Yuri said as he handed me my towel and bottled water with a straw. I drank some of the water as the replay played on the big screen as they wanted to see who exactly won. The crowd waited with anticipation as did I. I took Yuri’s hand and squeezed it as hard as I could waiting on baited, exhausted breath hoping that I won.

But in an unfortunate upset, it turned out that Doina was just an inch ahead of me at the start of the finish line so the judges had to call the winner of the 800m to Romania. I could hear the upset of the crowd and I sighed in disappointment.

“Hey, you still killed it out there cheetah. I’m proud of you.” He said as he placed his hand on my shoulder and shook it assuringly. He opened his arms out and the two of us hugged.

I then went to collect my silver medal while Doina received the gold and for the bronze it went to Fiţa. As we stood on the stands that represented our placements I turned to Doina and held my hand out to her. She looked at me and smiled softly as she shook my hand.

“Great run out there.”

“It was an honor to race against the Cheetah. You live up to your name.” she told me in her thick English-Romanian accent.

After a full day of track and field day for the Olympics and competing in the 4x100 relay race along with Simmone, Heather and Beverley I managed to at least win Great Britain the gold for that by being the last runner in the relay race. So now I had a total of 3 gold medals and one silver.

By the end of it all, I was in the locker room some of my fellow Brits congratulating me on my wins for the country and that’s when Simmone said to me.

“Oh (y/n), your fan club is here to see you in Yuri’s office.” I looked at her confused but I decided to see just what exactly she was talking about. As I opened the door to Yuri’s office that’s when Lotte and Rufus came running towards me and tackled me to the ground.

“Mum you were amazing out there!” Rufus exclaimed.

“Yeah you were going super-fast that I couldn’t even see you! You were all whoosh! And then you did a sharp turn just like the cheetah on TV did and then you won!” Lotte began ranting on. But I could hardly believe that my kids were actually here.

“Oh my lovely darlings, not that I’m not happy to see you but please tell me you two didn’t stowaway on a plane just to get to here.”

“Don’t worry, because they brought the coalition with them.” I looked toward the back door and there stood Roger along with Brian and Deacy. I couldn’t help but laugh as I now stood up with each of my children clinging onto me as Roger came up and kissed me.

“I can’t believe you came.”

“What and miss my wife’s chance at competing in the Olympics once more? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smiled at him before turning to Brian and Deacy.

“I hope Roger didn’t force you guys to come see.”

“No worries love, we wanted to show our full support. You were amazing out there today.” Brian said as hugged me. I turned to Deacy who said.

“It was definitely a show worth watching, you came through for Britain today (y/n). We would’ve lost had it not been for you.” Deacy smiled at me and pecked my cheek before embracing me.

“Thank you Deacy, you too Brian. I can’t believe you all came to see this, I just…..I only wish that I had gotten the gold for the 800m. That’s always been my specialty, and I feel ashamed that you all had to see me come in second.”

“Well you shouldn’t be. You did not let any of us down. Nor did you let Britain down. You came back and fought. You had given birth to both of our children and then went right back into the deep end of training while still taking care of our cubs here. You truly were a cheetah out there today (y/n), and I am proud to call (Y/n) “the Cheetah”, my wife.” He said as he cupped my face in his calloused hands and his thumbs gently stroked my cheekbones.

He then leaned forward and kissed me passionately yet delicately. He separated from me and he whispered,

“My Cheetah queen.”

“My Lion king.” I whispered back with a smile as we kissed again.

“Must you guys always kiss? It’s disgusting.” Complained Rufus. We looked down at our boy and just laughed and that’s when Brian said as he picked up his nephew.

“One day you’ll be doing the exact same thing Rufus.”

“Hopefully you won’t be as bad as your father was though.” Piped in Deacy.

“Piss off you two!” Roger snapped.

“Okay, okay. I’m starving so how about we go out and celebrate on a long, eventful day. Plus I am craving for something I know I shouldn’t be eating but I don’t care at this rate.” Roger then picked up our daughter and we all left the office and headed out of the stadium to celebrate on my successful turnout for the Track and Field division of the Olympics.

Yeah I may have only gained one additional gold medal that day giving me a total of 3 plus a silver, but in the end I had and will always have six gold medals. Three of the actual medals from the Olympics, and the three others being my two children and husband, Roger Taylor.

Our lion and cheetah family.

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datheetjoella · 5 years

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Home is Where You Are, Fic 10: One Hand

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: M Word Count: 3,945 Notes: Happy birthday @schnooglepuffs!! I hope you’re having an amazing day and I wish you a wonderful year. This fic is my little birthday gift for you, so I hope you like it! :)

Read at: AO3, FFn, or here!

Third lap, finish line in sight, currently in first place.

The odds were rarely in his favour, but despite it all, it seemed like Haruka would come out on top this time. His lead wasn't big, it never was, but he was so close that next to nothing could take away his win now. Spurred on by the hint of sweet, sweet victory that he could almost taste, Haruka leaned forward and held down the acceleration button harder like that would somehow make Daisy's bike move even faster.

This was it. Nothing could stop him now.

Except for a blue shell, that hit Daisy right before the finish, of course. And for the umpteenth time that night, the tune that signalled that the race had been won rang out, along with Luigi's overly familiar and frankly annoying cheering.

The CPUs were far enough behind them for him to finish second, but he didn't care about that at all because Makoto had come in first yet again.

"Yes."

Makoto's own soft cry of triumph was much smaller and far more endearing than his character's, but it didn't make Haruka feel any better. He liked to think that he usually wasn't a sore loser, but after such a good race and being so close to winning, the fact that he was sabotaged in the last second by a blue shell of all things irked him to no end. Why did those stupid things even exist?

Defeated in every sense of the word, Haruka loosened his wrist strap and put his controller down on the table with a huff. "I hate Shy Guy Beach."

"No you don't; you picked it," Makoto disputed, "You just hate blue shells."

Makoto was right. Shy Guy Beach was actually one of his best tracks, like all the other tracks that involved water in one way or another. Haruka had all the ingredients to success: the fastest character, the best vehicle, one of his favourite tracks that also happened to be one of Makoto's worst. The stars were aligned, yet the universe decided that none of it mattered and cursed him with a blue shell to lead Makoto to victory yet again.

He was done. He wasn't a sore loser, he told himself once more, but playing like this just wasn't fun.

"Well, except when they hit me," Makoto added as an afterthought, snorting lightly.

"They never hit you right before the finish line," Haruka grumbled, and much to his dismay, Makoto chuckled at his grouchiness.

"I guess I'm just lucky."

"This has nothing to do with luck." No, Makoto was just so much better than him. It wasn't like blue shells didn't generate when Makoto was in the lead and near the finish, but he always managed to get a small drift boost so that it wouldn't hit him until he had already won.

"It does," Makoto insisted, "We both know you should have actually won that race, and you would have if it weren't for that blue shell."

Even when it came to things as trivial as this, Makoto's gentle soul always wanted to console him. As nice as it was of him, Haruka didn't really need his solace right now. "And yet blue shells are a part of the game, so you won fair and square," Haruka concluded, doing his best to push these silly feelings aside, for it truly was just a game. A game that Makoto was infinitely better at.

A tender smile softened Makoto's handsome features. "It's not entirely fair, since I've had a lot more practice over the years than you had."

His words held a point of truth, but that wasn't all there was to it. While Makoto might have played this game more often than Haruka had, they had played together frequently enough for Haruka to be familiar with the mechanics and gameplay too; fact was that even if he practiced for hours every single day, he probably still wouldn't become as good at it as Makoto. And dedicating that much time to a video game just so that he could beat his boyfriend simply wasn't worth it. There were better ways to spend his free time, with said boyfriend for example.

The only other option was playing dirty, which he didn't like to resort to because Makoto never played dirty either. He would use all the items the game provided him with as strategically as possible, but he never purposely bumped Haruka off the road or into an obstacle. If that was the only way he could win, then Haruka would rather not win at all.

Not wanting him to sulk over a blue shell for too long, Makoto grabbed Haruka's controller and offered it to him. "Ready for a rematch?" he asked with a playful grin.

"And ruin your winning streak? I'd rather not."

"Oh come on, show those blue shells what you're made of," Makoto said as he teasingly nudged Haruka's chest with the Wii remote. "You can pick the course. Which one do you want? Koopa Cape?"

Despite everything, Haruka couldn't suppress a tiny smile at Makoto's efforts. It was just a game, he reminded himself, a fun activity to do together with his boyfriend. Right now, it was like Makoto was the only one who was having fun, so that had to change, hadn't it?

"I'll play some more," Haruka started, smirk fighting its way onto his face as he accepted the controller, "on one condition."

"And that is?"

"You get a handicap."

Never one to back down from a challenge, Makoto agreed without protest. "Alright," he replied, amusement playing at his lips as he pondered about what this handicap could be, "What is it? You get a five second head-start? I can't use items?"

Unfortunately for him, that wasn't quite what Haruka had in mind. His suggestions were good, but not good enough. That would be far too easy. "You can only use one hand."

Upon processing that request, Makoto's eyebrows twisted into a cute frown of confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," Haruka said as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snorting at Makoto's adorable expression. "One hand."

"That's impossible! How am I even going to hold the remote?"

"I don't know, figure something out." His hands were pretty large so it shouldn't be too hard to hold it and press all the buttons, but he could also try to use his face or perhaps even his feet. Haruka might not have had much fun playing, but he was definitely going to enjoy watching Makoto struggle.

The incredulity that was painted on Makoto's face morphed into a sly grin when he read Haruka's true motivation in his eyes. "It's impossible for me to play Mario Kart with one hand," he muttered, his voice low and sultry, "but there's one game I'm great at, even with only one hand."

That tone didn't predict any good, and paired with the piercing gaze he was subjecting Haruka to, it was downright dangerous. Haruka swallowed thickly and braced himself for the worst as Makoto loomed closer.

"Want to know what this game is?" he questioned as he slipped the strap of his Wii remote off his wrist and put it on the table.

"No thanks. I can imagine," Haruka muttered as he leaned back further out of Makoto's way, discarding his remote as well - whatever Makoto was planning, he would probably need both hands to defend himself. He knew Makoto loved him with all his heart, but when it came to games, he was ruthless.

"Oh come on," Makoto said again, but it was far more taunting and alarming now. He raised his right hand in the air and wiggled his fingers menacingly.

There it was. Haruka hadn't expected his plan to backfire like this, but he wasn't about to fall victim to his own curse. He wouldn't surrender himself to Makoto without a battle.

In one swift motion, Makoto brought his hand down to Haruka's abdomen but Haruka was faster and dodged him. His back hit the floor, and while he might have survived his first attack, he had brought himself into a rather compromising position, that Makoto could easily exploit; as long as he only used one hand, any other body part was fair game and he could simply use his weight to pin him down.

Haruka had to think fast, and he brought his knees to his chest to give himself two more weapons. He planted his socked feet against Makoto's pecs while Makoto swooped down in an attempt to tickle him. The tips of his fingers grazed over Haruka's side, but it would take more than that to coax laughter out of him. He pushed Makoto back, but while he was able to increase the distance between their bodies, it took a great deal of power and his legs began to quiver under Makoto's weight.

"What, did you want to reenact Nagisa and Rei's video?" Makoto questioned innocently, raising his upturned eyebrows in feigned surprise.

The mention of that video gave Haruka mental images that were pretty funny, but he had to pull through. He couldn't huff or laugh or else his grip might falter, and that was exactly what Makoto wanted. He wouldn't fall for Makoto's trap.

When Haruka didn't waver, Makoto simply shrugged. "Alright," he complied as he relaxed the muscles of his torso and pressed back against Haruka's feet to make it even heavier for him. "If that's what you want."

Haruka clicked his tongue and gritted his teeth as he did his best to hold on for just a tad longer. His legs were strong and he knew how to use them properly, to push off the wall and propel his body forward through the water, but now they were met with far more resistance. If so desired, Makoto could effortlessly shove his legs out of the way to get to his target immediately, but the fact that he wasn't meant that he enjoyed their current position a little too much. To slowly wear out Haruka's strength, so that his victory would be that much sweeter. Makoto truly was a monster when it came to games.

Though Haruka loved everything about Makoto's body, he couldn't deny that their size difference made things more difficult for him in situations like these. When it came to sheer power, Haruka could never win from Makoto, but their size difference wasn't all bad; he should always try to find a way to turn his weaknesses into strength. Makoto might have had his bulk, but Haruka was far more agile and supple than he was, and he could definitely use that to his advantage now.

So with Makoto's chest as leverage, he pushed himself away from him like he was the edge of the pool and he clambered backwards on his hands. Makoto instinctively caught one of his ankles to prevent him from escaping. Coincidentally, this happened to not only keep Haruka close, but it simultaneously provided him access to one of the best tickling-spots. Winning this game would be a piece of cake like this.

"Uh-uh!" Haruka yelled, feeling like his dear boyfriend could use a reminder of the rules of this particular game, "One hand."

Realising his mistake, Makoto released his hold and Haruka didn't waste any time before he backed up further, wanting to crawl around the coffee table to use it as a shield.

Alas, Haruka might have been more nimble, but Makoto was still faster than him. He reclaimed his grip on Haruka's ankle and tugged him downwards so his back was on the floor again. Then he instantly let go in favour of wiggling his fingers threateningly as he slowly lowered his hand towards Haruka's belly.

Pure amusement and glee twinkled in Makoto's gorgeous eyes, but Haruka wouldn't let that mesmerizing gaze enchant and distract him. Biting his lip to repress a giddy smile, Haruka aimed his foot at the edge of Makoto's shoulder in the hopes of knocking him off his balance so he could push himself up once more.

This wasn't what Haruka had in mind at all when he proposed for Makoto to have a handicap, but in one way or another, his goal was still accomplished; he was having a ton of fun, messing around with Makoto like this, probably more than he should have. It was alright, though, because Makoto was emitting nothing but joy as well.

While the kick to his shoulder did surprise Makoto and gave Haruka enough time to sit up, it also gave Makoto the upper hand in the fight. He simply shoved Haruka's leg away with the back of his forearm and inched closer so he was between Haruka's legs. With his back to the table and Makoto hovering over him, there was nowhere for Haruka to run.

"Checkmate, Haru-chan," Makoto murmured in a honeysweet and almost seductive voice. And then, without a second of hesitation, he began to mercilessly tickle Haruka.

Haruka took a deep breath and tensed his abs, wanting to hold out for as long as possible. Swatting Makoto's hand away wasn't quite effective when it seemed like Makoto's fingers teleported from one spot on his body to the next, like he was tickling him everywhere at once. He tried to roll from one side to the other, but covering up one area only meant exposing another, so that didn't help his case either. Makoto was right about this too; even with one hand, he was a tickling-master - Haruka wasn't sure if he should blame this on Ran and Ren, or pity them for it.

At last, he could no longer avoid the inevitable. A soft snort broke out of the back of his throat, and it was soon followed by loud laughter.

A triumphant grin stretched Makoto's cheeks upon hearing Haruka's defeat; his laughter was a sound that always made Makoto smile because of its beauty, but the reason behind it made it even better this time.

"I told you-" Haruka managed to get out between giggles, "to stop with the -chan!"

"What's that, Haru-chan?"

Makoto was enjoying this a bit too much for Haruka's liking. He was going to get back at him for this, but first he had to get himself out of this situation. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and that was a sign that this had gone on for far too long already.

So Haruka began to squirm wildly, using all of his limbs to fight back against this agonising torture. He jerked backwards as his attempts to kick Makoto away from him were in vain. A hollow thud sounded out as Haruka hit the back of his head on the wooden surface of the table.

"Ow!" he groaned as he clutched his head in his palms, curling up into himself as pain spread through his skull in dull shocks.

Instantly Makoto withdrew his hand and the mischievous grin was wiped off his face to be replaced with genuine concern. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"No," Haruka scoffed in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry," Makoto repeated, and unlike all the times he apologised for adding '-chan' to his name, this time it was filled with sincere remorse. "Let me see," he murmured as he pried Haruka's hands away to check the damage.

Although his mood had dropped considerably, Haruka allowed Makoto to do as he pleased.

"I can't see anything, but it's probably going to be a bump," Makoto muttered as he lightly ran his fingers through his black locks and over his scalp. Then he leaned in and pressed a series of soft kisses against the offended area.

"I'm not five years old, Makoto," Haruka sneered in response, "you can't kiss it better." His head already hurt enough from hitting it, and Makoto buzzing around him like this certainly wasn't helping.

"I know! I just… I'm sorry," Makoto sighed as he pulled back, "I just wanted to tease you a little, but I never meant for you to get hurt. Sorry."

Regret immediately flooded Haruka's senses when he peered up at Makoto. He looked like a lost, forsaken puppy with large sad eyes and his tail between his legs, which made Haruka the owner who had abandoned him. Of course it was never Makoto's intention for him to get hurt, and yet here he was acting like he did it on purpose.

"I know," Haruka said, voice a lot gentler now, "I'm sorry too."

"You don't have to apologise. It's my fault: if I hadn't started to tickle you then-"

"It's not your fault," Haruka interrupted as he grabbed his hand, "If anyone is to blame, it's me, cause I started it. There was no reason for me to lash out to you like that when you only meant well. So I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Makoto assured, "It was a normal reaction. It hurts a lot, doesn't it?" With his free hand, Makoto reached down to Haruka's face to catch a stray tear that was gliding over his cheek.

"Oh, this is not from that," Haruka mumbled as he lifted his own hand to wipe his cheeks. "It's from earlier."

"Still," Makoto insisted as he carded his hand through Haruka's hair again, over his soon-to-be bruise, "I'll get you some aspirin."

He was about to get up to do as he promised, but Haruka pulled him back to the floor. Releasing his hand, Haruka grasped the collar of Makoto's shirt with both hands, tugging him down to meet his lips. The kiss was chaste, but it expressed both gratitude and amends, and of course the love that was ever-present between them.

After a moment he ended their kiss to look at Makoto's face. "It's fine," he murmured, and he let go of Makoto's shirt in favour of wrapping his arms around Makoto's neck, "It doesn't hurt that much; the pain is already fading."

"I'm glad," Makoto said, knowing that Haruka was being honest, "It sounded so painful and I felt so bad, it really wasn't my intention to-"

Having had enough of Makoto's rambled apologies, Haruka cut him off by yanking him down into another kiss. A small noise of astonishment slipped out of Makoto's throat before he melted against Haruka's lips. He reached down to cup Haruka's cheeks as Haruka deepened the kiss. It might have come as a surprise, but Haruka knew Makoto would never object to indulging himself in his affection.

When their lips parted, Makoto gazed down into the ocean of Haruka's irises and gently nuzzled his nose with his. Of all the ways to express his feelings, this was certainly the most adorable one and it never failed to make Haruka smile in fondness.

"I was wrong," he whispered, maintaining their eye-contact as he tangled his fingers in the strands of hair at the base of Makoto's neck, "Maybe you can actually kiss it better."

Makoto smiled at that. "Well, it doesn't hurt to try," he reasoned with an excited grin, and he didn't waste another second before leaning in for another deep and sensual kiss.

A familiar fire was ignited in Haruka's lower belly. As the minutes ticked by and their lips met again and again, it began to burn brighter and Haruka ran his hands over Makoto's back, under his shirt in a need to feel his bare skin.

Judging by the careful roughness that slipped into Makoto's kisses and the way his hands began to roam over his torso, Haruka could tell that the hunger he felt was very much shared. His breathing got heavier and his heartbeat accelerated as he tried to pull Makoto's body closer, so no more distance would separate them.

Contrary to what he wanted, Makoto broke the passionate kiss. Haruka wanted to complain, but before he could get a single word out, he was captivated by the lust that was swimming in Makoto's eyes. That gorgeous green told him that the desire for more was entirely mutual, yet Makoto wasn't one to rush into anything and liked to drag some things out a little. Good things take time, was what he would say, and depending on Haruka's particular mood, this could both be a blessing and a curse.

This time, it appeared to be a blessing. "Besides kissing it better," he started, slowly stroking his fingertips over Haruka's side. The touch was so light that it made goosebumps erupt and his skin tingled in the wake of Makoto's blunt nails. Haruka held his breath as he waited for Makoto to continue. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The husky tone of his beautiful voice sounded like pure sex to Haruka's ears and hearing that low whisper made him even more aroused. Now this was a game he wouldn't mind delving deeper into.

"You know, I've heard that orgasms are a great painkiller," Haruka stated, biting his bottom lip in anticipation because he knew Makoto liked that while he gently circled his thumb around Makoto's nipple, "But first, please turn off the Wii." Without Makoto's touch and kisses to drown out all white noise, the music was really getting annoying. It wasn't quite suitable background music for what was about to go down, and he'd rather not have the mood be ruined halfway through by the memory of blue shells coming to haunt him.

Makoto did as he was told right away. Within an instance of pressing the button, the music died out and the room fell silent, with the exception of their breathing and their hearts beating in sync.

"You know," Makoto said, sitting up between Haruka's legs while he ran his hands over Haruka's thighs, "I happen to know this game that doesn't require any hands."

Haruka definitely liked where this was going. "And, are you good at this game?"

"I think I am…" Makoto leaned closer until his mouth was only an inch away from Haruka's. "But why don't you be the judge of that."

Oh, Haruka was more than familiar with this game, and he took pride in the fact that he was the only one in the entire universe who could confirm that yes, Makoto was excellent at it. Probably even better than at Mario Kart - and he knew that this game was infinitely more fun. "Gladly."

That was all the permission Makoto needed before he closed the distance between them in a fervent kiss. Haruka's hands wandered over his torso and found their way to Makoto's ass. Using his grip for leverage, he thrust his hips against Makoto's in search for friction and to encourage him.

Makoto's mouth strayed from his lips to Haruka's neck, kissing and sucking at all of Haruka's most sensitive spots, lightly to not leave any marks yet prominent enough to make Haruka yearn for more. His hands trailed over Haruka's body once more, fingers seeking the hem of his pyjama pants to uncover Haruka's growing erection.

"Hey," Haruka panted, calling Makoto to attention and making him cease his endeavors. "I thought you said you could play this game with no hands."

The only response Makoto gave was a lustful grin before he moved his hands to caress Haruka's thighs again. Then he lowered his head to Haruka's crotch and sank his teeth into the hem, looking Haruka straight into the eyes as he pulled his pants down with his mouth.

The game had only just begun, but Haruka already knew that this was going to be his favourite game of the entire night.

Perhaps blue shells weren't so bad after all; not when they could lead to this.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #schnooglepuffs #my fic #home is where you are #fic request #request #i hope you like it dear!!

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toonzania · 7 years

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KB Story - RAINY YET SOLID ROMANCE

It was light rainy afternoon in Mellowbrook, and 16-year-old Kick Buttowski and his sidekick 13-year-old Haley Trenton, who is just competing in a mud-skiing contest, in which Haley won. Kick congratulated her and promised to buy her pizza at the Food-N-Fix if she won. Wade: Hey, Danger Dude and Hailstorm! Kick: Hey, Wade! Hand me a whole bacon-burger-shrimp pizza! Haley: My favorite of course since I won the mudslide against my best friend! Kick: All right, all right, squirt. Let's take it easy! ---: What's the occasion, guys? Kick and Haley turned to see Gunther and his girlfriend Julie with Kendall, who returned from Fort Knox, Texas. (Gunther, Julie and Kendall are 16 here) Before she left for Texas for a while, Kick and Kendall decided to be more civil to each other. Kick has a secret crush on Kendall for a while, especially with some good moments with her like getting working together to get their hands stuck together from cave sap and to mix their skills for Dance Appreciation. After those moments, his love for her progressed steadily. Kick knew Kendall liked him back, but he wanted to make a big move when he told her, instead of the usual 'I like you, be my girlfriend' approach. Haley: Hey, sis! Welcome back! Kendall: Thank you, sweetie! Hey, how are things with you, 'Shortstop'? Kick: Hey, that name only worked when I was little and short. Kendall (playfully): Still a nice name for you, Clarence. It's not that bad. After Kick and Kendall had that truce they become more playful when it comes to banter and rivalry, but still friends none then less. Although, they'll be a little more than friends today. Kick loves Kendall's playful banter. Gunther: I can't stay for too long. Julie and I set up a date for the rodeo in West Mellowbrook. Julie: Tambry's driving us. I can't wait to beat Gibble in that race! Kendall: Good luck, guys! Julie: Thanks, sis! Haley: I'll leave you two alone. Catch you later, Wade! Wade: Later, Hales! Kick: Careful of the rain, kiddo! Haley: I will! Haley joined Gunther and Julie when they left the place, leaving Kick and Kendall (and Wade) alone. Wade: So how are things from Texas, Danger Dudette? Kendall: I'm chief captain of my team, but my team is gonna move in a vicinity near here. So that means I'll moving back here. Kick: Really? Kendall: Mm-hmm! Kick: I kinda missed you. Kendall: Really? Kick: Yeah. Come on let's get to your place. Kendall: Sure. When Kick and Kendall were about to exit, they see the rain grew heavier. Kendall: I don't know if we can make it in this heavy rain, Kick. Kick: I got my bike, you'll just to hold on tight. Wade, you got the spare raincoats for emergencies. Wade: Got em ready, amigo! Kick: Thanks, Wade! Ready Kends? Kendall: Are you sure we'll make it in all of this rain? Kick: Positive! Kick with Kendall holding onto him, drove all the way to Cul-de-Sac in the heavy rain. Kendall: This is insane, Kick! Kick: True but also fun! They reached Kendall's house and got off Kick's bike. Kendall: Thanks a lot, Buttowski! I'm drenched! Kick: Sorry about that. But at least it was fun. Kendall: Oh please... well, it was a bit fun. But being overly soaked, not so much. Kick: Yeah. Kick and Kendall rushed inside the living room of Kendall's house, being completely soaked all over from heavy rain. Kick: Hey, despite the awesome dodging the rain part, I really I got you soaked. Kendall: Kick, it's okay. You didn't know the sudden change in weather. You never exactly what'll happen next. Kick: That's true. Kendall: Since it's rainy very heavily here. Wanna stay here for a while? Kick: Really, you mean it? Kendall: Of course! Since you are my friend anyway. Kick: Thanks a lot. (You won't be just my friend for long.) Kendall: My pleasure, Shortstop. Kendall came upstairs get her and Kick some dry clothes. She got him Julie's red sweater and blue sweatpants. Kendall is wearing a blue long-sleeve top, green skirt and bright purple nylons. Kendall: Hope they're not too big. Kick: They're fine. Kendall: Hope you'll like em. Kick: You look really nice. Kendall: Oh, thank you. It's nothing really. Kick: No really, you look sexy in that. (Did I just said that out loud?) Kendall: I do? Kick: (Well, I did. Oh well.) You do. Kendall: So let me show you something. She brings him to her basement where there are plenty of the raddest stuff. They had a flat-screen tv with several games. Kendall: You want Dr. Pepper? Kick: Sure! Let's play a car race game. Kendall: Okay. You sure? Kick: Surprise me. Kendall: Okay. Kendall put in a random game into the console and they started playing. After playing for at least an hour, they raced through the whole game with Kendall in first place. She stuck her tongue playfully at Kick. Kick: (This is it, my chance to make a move. We're alone with no one to bother us.) Let's play a different game. Kick put on his mischievous face and looked straight at Kendall while throwing the controller to the side. He grabbed Kendall's leg and pulled her under him as he got up on his hands and knees. She looked at him completely shock and red as a bet. She wasn't sure what was happening, everything was going too fast. Then as she was processing of what's happening, she felt a tickling sensation on her neck. She tried not to laugh until she processed that Kick was kissing her neck! She started laughing hysterically as they fell off the couch. Now she was now on top of Kick, and he was looking at her lovingly. Kendall (hopefully): Does this mean what I think it means? Kick couldn't stop thinking about really cute Kendall was. He rolled them so that he was completely on top of her, with one under her head and the other gently stroking her face. They were so close their noses were touching, and they looked into each other's eyes. Kick: Only if it means that I want you to be mine. If you though it was something else, then the answer is no. She looked up at him and joy overwhelmed her. She kissed him passionately and felt his body fall even more onto her own. She then felt all of his weight leave but the kiss wasn't broken. She opened her eyes to see that was going on, only to feel his arms lift he up in the air back onto the love seat. Kick: Let's see how ticklish you are and cute your laugh is. Kendall (giggling): Oh no. Kick: Come on, sweetie. You can make it. Kick helds Kendall's foot, and started to tickle her foot, making Kendall laugh and beg him to stop. He refused to stop the first few times she asked. Eventually he stopped tickling and then kissed her foot. Kick: So you ARE ticklish. And you have the most adorable laugh of any girl I ever met. Kendall: Oh, thank you. Let's see how ticklish are you. Kendall blew underneath Kick's nose which tickled him. Kick: Hey! Kendall: Yeah! Wait is that a nose? Kick: Uhh, yeah. Kendall: (squeals) Your nose is so cute! (kissing Kick's nose few times) Kick: Okay, okay! (held Kendall close) There's something I wanna give you. Kendall: What is it? Kick brings a box dressed like a gift to Kendall, who was anxious to open it. When she opened it, it revealed green slippers with pink trends and slipped them on, and they fitted perfectly. Kendall: Thank you! Thank you! I love these!! Kick: You're welcome. Kendall: How do you figure my shoe size? Kick: Let's just say, your sister Haley wanted to help me with something big. Kendall: What? Kick: Kendall, I've come think to terms of how I liked you, and realized now is that... Kendall: What? What is it? Kick: ...I love you. Will you be my girlfriend? Kendall: Oh, Kick!! Did you mean it? Kick: Of course! Kendall (pinned Kick to the couch and kissed him all over): Yes! Yes! I love you! I love you, Clarence Francis Buttowski! You never knew how much I longed for this. Kick: Well, with the help of kissing you in the theatre when we were younger may help with this! Kendall: Wait a minute, didn't you already asked me? Kick: I didn't say the official words. Kendall: It still counts, sweetie, and I love you for it. Kendall brings Kick to a long kiss. Kick one hand is hold her waist, the other is stroking Kendall's hair. Suddenly, Haley came into the basement, bringing box of pizza to the couple. Haley: I got you some string cheese pizza! Kendall: Oh, thank you, sweetie! Kick: Thanks, kiddo! Haley: The rain is still is bit of heavy and the wind's a bit strong. So Wanna watch a movie? Kick: Great idea. Haley played a gameplay version of Batman Arkham Asylum in the TV. They all enjoy it. They later fell asleep. Haley with Hansel on her lap, Kick with arms around his girlfriend. Gunther, Julie, Tambry, Tim and Kathy. Gunther: There they are. Tambry: Should we wake them up? Julie: Nah, I think they look cute. They're at the living room. Tim: Kinda nice of Kick is holding on Kendall. Kathy: Well, he always kinda liked her, but he hid it a long time. They aren't fight anymore. Tim: Yeah, that's a great start. Kathy: Did you think Kick popped the question? Haley: Only one way to find out. Gunther, Julie, Tambry, Kathy and Tim looked to see Haley, Hansel, Kick and Kendall awake. Kick: Hey guys, might as well tell you. Kendall: It's okay, sweetie, I'll them. Kick and I are officially dating. Julie: Well, I knew it's bound to happen. Haley: I knew it all the time! Gunther: I always this would go this good! Haley gave Kick her phone, Kick's mom is on the line. Kick: Hey, mom! Honey: Hi, sweetie! I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Kick: Haley should've told you and yes I'm fine! Honey: Yeah, she told me! That's good! Kick: There's something else. Honey: What is it, sweetie? Kick: You remember, Kendall, right? Honey: Of course. Kick: She and I are pretty much dating. Honey: Aww, that's great, sweetheart! I'm so proud of you! Kick: Thanks, mom! Honey: My little's Kick all grown up. You can stay with her tonight if you like! Haley: Don't worry, Mrs. B, I got some spare stuff for him! Honey: Good girl! Catch you tomorrow! Love you sweetie! Kick: You too! Kendall: Looks like your mom enjoys it! Kick: She always liked you! Kendall: D'aww! Kick: So do I!

So thus the romantic couple has become officially solid thru rainy seasons.

Characters (c) Sandro Corsaro & Chris Savino

#kick buttowski #kendall perkins #kindall #julie trenton #gunther maguson #haley trenton #love #couple #otp #romance #kick and kendall #txtoonguy1037

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jonathanbelloblog · 6 years

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Pro Racer Test Drive: McLaren Senna

ALCABIDECHE, Portugal — The late three-time world champion Ayrton Senna claimed the first of his 41 F1 wins at the Estoril racetrack in Portugal on April 21, 1985. I thought about that win as I wandered slowly down Estoril’s long front straight. I had driven past the circuit about nine months earlier, on my way to do a 24-hour race in Portimao; I had wanted to stop by then but didn’t have the time. Yet here I was, less than a year later, to drive a monster of a car, for McLaren chose Estoril as a venue to give the media its latest taste of the “Ultimate Production Track Car,” the Senna.

My first glimpse of the Senna occurred the evening before during a dinner party on the second floor of a hotel. A friendly crane operator had delivered the car to the designated spot. (The Senna does not, despite the copious talents of McLaren’s engineers, take off vertically—not yet, anyway.) The Senna family was involved throughout the conception, design, and development of the car, and I was even able to say hello to Ayrton’s nephew, Bruno, at the dinner.

Such an interaction hammered home the point that this is a special car, made specifically to honor a very special race driver. I was/am a massive Ayrton Senna fan. For me, the Brazilian set the bar for focus and grim determination; I still get sad today when I think about him being gone, about his fatal crash at Imola in 1994. Every race fan knows that he was one of the very special drivers to bring his talent to the sport.

To my eyes the McLaren Senna has a striking presence and exudes unapologetic functionality. I heard comments from several other media folks present who voiced completely opposite opinions. Fair enough. Maybe it’s because I see the stance of one of my favorite cars, the Ferrari F40, in it, but I think it looks impressive. Having seen images of the car before I got to Portugal, I can now say pictures don’t really do it justice—go see one in person if you have the chance.

I spoke with several McLaren design and engineering people during my time in Portugal, and they impressed upon me the idea that every square millimeter of the Senna serves a purpose. Indeed, McLaren’s lofty performance goals necessitated some exquisite carbon-fiber fabrication to make use of air in exactly the way the engineers needed for maximum effect; in my view it’s a work of art.

Kenny Brack was also on-hand. Brack, you might know, is a massively quick and successful race driver. He is probably best known for winning the 1999 Indianapolis 500—and also for his horrendous IndyCar crash at Texas Motor Speedway in 2003, where he withstood measured deceleration of 214 g’s. (That’s not a misprint, just an unreal number.) It was great to see him looking well and obviously enjoying his role of chief test driver for McLaren. I spent quite a while downloading with him about the Senna’s handling, chassis, braking, and power/tire management after my drives.

For our first laps around Estoril, McLaren provided us with a 720S. Yes, to find our way around a circuit most of us had never seen before, we merely “warmed up” in the massively fast 720S. Imagine it as a 710-hp rent-a-car type of thing. Worth noting: The 720S is a rather well-balanced car, but I find it doesn’t have much in the way of aerodynamic downforce to help you, especially compared to other 700-plus-horsepower cars now available such as the Corvette ZR1, Porsche GT2 RS, and Lamborghini Huracan Performante. To get a fast lap in a 720S, you have to move/slide it around a lot, including through high-speed turns. Thankfully the car’s balance is so amenable and communicative that slipping and sliding it all day at “complete nutter” speeds is twitch-free and enjoyable. And, of course, the 720S is notably fast in a straight line. I have yet to drive any regular production car that’s quicker in a straight line, as it will run the quarter-mile in about 10 seconds—a staggeringly quick time.

After a few laps in the 720S “learner car,” it was time to jump into the Senna. I was excited and tried to take as much out of every minute as I could. Estoril is not a difficult track to learn, and apart from one horrible “slow them down” chicane, it was exactly as Ayrton Senna found it as he won his first F1 race. But thank goodness we did not have the horrendous rain Ayrton did on that particular April day.

The Senna’s controls are very similar to those in the 720S, apart from having several buttons (including the starter) mounted up in the roof, as you might find on an aircraft. McLaren says this saves weight, as it needs to run less wire through the car as a result. Both Sennas I drove were left-hand drive, and I had another pro driver who races in the FIA World Endurance Championship sitting next to me at all times on the track. After exchanging pleasantries, I told him I was mighty impressed that he would sit in the passenger seat of an 800-hp rocket with complete strangers, stumbling around an old F1 track. But he had an idea about my racing background and helped me learn the track quickly.

I will describe my on-track Senna-driving experience from the viewpoint of my second five-lap stint. At that stage, I was comfortable with where the track went and had a very good feel for the Senna’s handling at the limit. My pro-driver passenger seemed to be relaxed, saying nothing much at all during my final stint apart from a little chit chat until it was time for my cool-down lap.

If you have 800 hp of go, then you better have plenty of stopping power. The Senna can pull 2.1 g’s in deceleration, a number that is serious race-car good. The most common utterances I heard from other media folks were exclamations of how the Senna’s stopping power took their breath away once they figured out how hard they needed to press the pedal to get the most out of them. The brake feel is excellent and easy to modulate; I could just tickle the ABS or modulate deceleration to rotate the car on corner entry. You enter the brake zone for the 50-mph first turn at more than 180 mph so you better have the stoppers. No worries in this case, as the Senna’s brakes do the job.

The steering is quick but not too quick for my tastes. Although the Senna comes with Pirelli Tropheo R tires, they are still street tires and need a slower steering rate than a race tire to get the most from them, especially after they heat up. Once I slowed my hands down, I could manage the plentiful front grip much better. Slowing my hands gave my steering input more time to speak to the tire patch through the suspension. The Senna is sprung on the stiff side to handle the almost 1,800 pounds of total downforce it can generate at 155 mph. The stiffer suspension setup makes any steering input an almost instantaneous instruction to the tire patch, so it’s up to the driver to control this.

Another interesting point involves active aerodynamic features. The Senna has active front aero blades and an active rear wing. They move very quickly to help/adjust downforce relative to speed, deceleration, and cornering load; less on a long straight, more in a fast corner or under braking. The figure of 1,800 pounds of downforce at 155 mph in a 3,050-pound (fuel and driver included) street car is just amazing. The active aero also adjusts downforce to that maximum of 1,800 pounds due to tire-saving considerations, so the downforce level in theory could be even greater. For comparison, a new Corvette ZR1 or Porsche GT2 RS will produce about 450 pounds of downforce at 155 mph and a maximum around 1,000 pounds at their 212-or-so-mph top speeds. That’s not really any comparison to the Senna, which makes you think of a GT3 race car compared to a Prototype racer in terms of cornering speeds.

The other impressive part about the Senna suspension setup is the overall front-to-rear chassis balance. As stiff as it is, once I got my steering-wheel rate figured out on corner entry, I could use the steering and a slight throttle lift or slight left-foot braking to move the car and control rotation. This was very useful entering the mid-speed kinks. Downforce helped to make the turn-five kink easy to take flat-out at more than 130 mph. The ability to rotate the car on corner entry to mid-corner takes away the need for the front tires to do all the work, allowing me to carry more speed and making the car a joy to drive. I could also use these same techniques for post-apex/corner-exit power-down situations. It particularly worked well for putting the power down early in the Mini-Parabolica turn six and the really quick and long Ayrton Senna Parabolica turn 13. This car is so much fun to drive on the track at full rip, I have to tip my hat to the McLaren engineers and Kenny Brack for its development.

In terms of acceleration, I often find it is the least impressive part of high-performance road cars, especially when you get them on a track where everything around you is going equally as quick. However, the Senna feels impressively strong on acceleration, especially from 0-100 mph. When the turbos hit full boost, which is almost instantaneously, the horizon basically gets rammed down your throat. It’s a highly addictive experience.

If you look at the 720S, you have roughly 4.6 pounds per horsepower when you include fuel and a driver. You might be surprised to find a modern day GT3 race car would be around 6 pounds per horsepower. The Senna is a very impressive 3.7 pounds per horsepower, including fuel and a driver. It feels like a Prototype race car on acceleration, especially up to 100 mph, when the downforce is lower, and the car still pulled very strongly to more than 180 mph on Estoril’s front straight.

My laps in the Senna were over rather too quickly, but the memories will stay vivid for a long time to come. This is certainly the quickest street car I’ve ever driven on a track. McLaren has produced a vehicle well worthy of carrying the Senna name.

2019 McLaren Senna Specifications

ON SALE Fall 2018 (all 500 sold) PRICE $958,966 (base) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbo DOHC 32-valve V-8/789 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 590 lb-ft @ 6,700 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 186.8 x 77.1 x 48.4 in WHEELBASE 105.0 in WEIGHT 2,900 lb 0-60 MPH 2.7 sec TOP SPEED 211 mph

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jesusvasser · 6 years

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Pro Racer Test Drive: McLaren Senna

2019 McLaren Senna Specifications

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