Everlark Anxiety @everlarkanxiety - Tumblr Blog

Strip Mario Kart - Everlark

So I've been through a really rough few weeks (I had a miscarriage a couple weeks ago) and was planning on submitting this or another fic to S2SL, but life obviously got in the way. I finally got my inspiration back in the form of this very light happy everlark fic I've had in mind forever. Someone (I don't remember who) posted a cartoon drawing of everlark playing Strip Mario Kart forever ago and its been in my head ever since.

It is somewhere between one shot and drabble length, so I'll call it a drabble-shot. All mistakes are mine. And I'm dedicating it to such a wonderful fandom (particularly Court for being amazing, streetlightlove1 for putting together such a great fundraiser and hawthornewhisperer, even though I know she isn't a big everlark fan) that is always here to give me an escape from real life when things get hard.

I know that if I weren’t drunk right now, there is no way in hell I would ever suggest something so ridiculous. With my best friend, no less. But after two margaritas at the taco place after dinner and a beer back at Peeta’s apartment, it seems like the best idea I’ve ever come up with.

We’ve been playing Mario Kart since we got back and so far we're in a dead heat, with two wins each.

“What do you say we kick this game up a notch?” I say as I run to the fridge for another beer.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked as I tossed him one.

“Three words. Strip…Mario ….Kart.” I start giggling and he just laughs.

“Ha, ha Katniss, very funny,” is all he says after taking a swig.

“I’m totally serious!” I exclaim.

“You’re drunk,” he laughs. “Don't me wrong, I love drunk Katniss. You scowl way less than normal. But there is no way you are serious right now.”

I try to scowl but it quickly turns into a giggle. “I’m just drunk enough to think it is a great idea, and just sober enough to know I’m gonna kick your ass.” Peeta laughs but says nothing. “Come on Peeta, best friends play strip Mario Kart all the time.”

“Don’t you think it might…” he hesitates, “Complicate things?”

“Oh come on Peeta, we’ve been best friends for 10 years now, if we made it through puberty without jumping each other’s bones, then we should be fine.” Peeta doesn’t say anything. “Unless you don’t think you can handle the pressure…”

Peeta’s face changes then at my challenge. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist me taunting him. “You’re on.”

----------------

45 minutes later, a beer and several games of Mario Kart in, we have both lost our socks and shoes. I had to take off my sweater and Peeta lost his button up shirt. I take a mental tally of the clothes that are left. He has his jeans, boxers (I’m assuming), and white t-shirt. I only have my jeans, panties, bra and t-shirt. The idea of losing any of those things makes me very nervous.

We are playing our way through all of the worlds with the old N-64 console from our teenage years. Right now we are in the active volcano course, which is one of my worst ones. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I curse as I fall off another bridge. I was in 3rd place, and now am in 7th.

Peeta laughs and I glance at his screen and realize he is in 2nd place. “Dammit!” I curse again.

“Getting nervous?” he laughs evilly.

I notice that he has moved into 1st place and laugh as I come up with the blue shell. The blue shell automatically hits anyone in first place no matter how far away you are from the person.

I let the shell loose and call out, “You’re the one who should be nervous!” A moment later the shell hits him and he groans as his kart falls off the side of a bridge.

I pass him a few seconds later and know that I am only about thirty seconds from the finish line. “No, no, no, no!” he yells. He gets back on the course and starts driving furiously, but can’t catch me in time.

“What’ll it be Peeta?” I smile, “Shirt or pants? You better be careful, you’ll only have two items of clothing left after this.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me and pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion. My jaw drops a bit at the sight of his chiseled chest. I haven’t seen his bare chest since our beach trip last year and it is evident he has filled out considerably since joining our college’s wrestling team. My mouth seems suddenly very dry.

Before I know what is happening Peeta has leaned across the couch and used his finger to very delicately close my mouth. His finger against my skin has, for the first time ever, left me with goosebumps. “I know you are going to be taking that shirt off soon, but I don’t want you to drool all over it or anything,” he says silkily.

I huff and turn away from his perfect pectoral muscles. “I’m just surprised you went through with it, that’s all.”

“Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.” I look back at him and he actually winks at me. If I didn’t know better, I would think he is flirting with me.

I roll my eyes and scowl, “Humble much?”

“Oh no, the scowl is back! You need another drink!” He jumps up and grabs us another round from the fridge.

I accept the beer he hands to me, still trying, but failing, not to focus too hard on his muscles while he moves. I lean back and notice how the muscles along his back ripple as he takes his seat. Telling myself to stop looking at his back, I lean forward only to feel my breath quicken as I notice the trail of hair leading down to his jeans.

“Ah-hem,” Peeta clears his throat, “My face is up here.” I look up and Peeta is pointing to his face. “Are you going to be too distracted to keep playing? Because if you want to forfeit, now is the time.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Says the guy who is two losses away from the Full Monty.”

“There is no such thing as a sure win in Mario Kart, particularly when the Special Cup is next.” I gulp, knowing that the Special Cup is the most difficult but I should have a leg up on him.

As he sets the next set of courses up I shake my head. I must be really horny tonight and the beer isn’t helping. Peeta and I have been best friends since we were 10. People always thought we were together, particularly since we chose the same college, but I’ve had nothing but platonic thoughts towards him. Obviously I’ve noticed how good looking he is. You’d have to be blind to miss that. And obviously I’ve wondered what he might look like naked or what his lips feel like. But we could never be together like that. We are totally different and all wrong for each other. Right?

I shake my head to clear my thoughts as the timer counts down. We both get a fast start and battle for first place the entire first two laps. When the final lap comes, however, Peeta gets a star and runs into me, knocking me off of the jungle parkway. There is only a half of a lap left, so I know I’m toast.

As he passes through the finish line I groan and fall back into the couch. “What’ll it be Katniss?” he echoes my same question from earlier, “Shirt or pants?”

I sigh and take a deep breath before standing up quickly and unbuttoning my jeans. I slip my jeans down my body, exposing a pair of simple black boy shorts underneath. I’m very grateful that I didn’t choose a thong today.

I don’t look at Peeta before I take a long swig of my beer and grab the controller. “Ready?” I ask, stealing a glance over at him.

His face is flushed as he takes his own long swig of beer. I smirk, glad to know that I’m not the only one affected by this. We start the next world, Yoshi Valley, without saying anything for a while. That is, until the big Yoshi Egg flattens me and I let out a long string of expletives. “Damn you Egg!!” I say over-dramatically.

Peeta laughs out loud. “You should be careful around there Katniss.”

I growl and speed my way through a sharp turn. My risk is rewarded when I jump back up to second place. “I’m coming for you!” I yell as the last lap begins.

Peeta moves and sits forward on his knees, and I can tell by how tense his muscles are that he is nervous. The adrenaline starts pumping faster and my breath quickens as I round one of the last turns. I see Peeta up ahead and know a split second before he does that he is about to be run over by the big Yoshi Egg.

“Nooooo!” he cries as I pass him and the finish line.

I jump up and start dancing around the living room before remembering that I am not wearing any pants. I collapse back down on the couch with a laugh.

“Let’s see….I am going to bet you are a boxer guy.” He raises an eyebrow at me before silently unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. I bite my lip hard in anticipation. His pants slide down slowly to reveal black boxer briefs that fit him…very well. I stop the gasp from escaping my lips as soon as I see how the dark, cotton fabric clings to him. A flush that starts at my chest travels up to my neck.

I lick my lips and gulp when I see his thick, hairy, muscular thighs. His ass is the vision of perfection and I feel wetness gathering between my thighs. “Boxer-briefs,” I almost whisper, my voice thick with want. “Good choice.”

We are quiet for another moment before I suddenly feel the need to get away. I jump up and run to his kitchen. “Another beer?” I call as I open the fridge up.

“Sure,” he calls, his voice breaking a bit.

I avoid looking at him as I hand him his beer and settle back down on the couch. “Now is the time to forfeit Peeta,” I taunt as I grab the controller.

“Go big or go home!” he chants before pressing the ‘Continue’ button.

The air is tense as we make our way around the track a couple times. Neither of us say anything and are both playing our best, despite being pretty drunk. We start the final lap with Peeta in first place and me in third. “Come on blue shell, come on blue shell!” I chant.

I run over a power up and hold my breath as my prize shows up. “Banana peel?!” I shriek. “What the heck?!” Peeta laughs maniacally as he crosses the finish line.

“I was robbed!” I cry as he continues to laugh.

“Better be careful Everdeen, you only have two items of clothing left after you lose this one!” Peeta chants, wiggling his eyebrow at me.

I sigh and knock back my beer for a few seconds, hoping to gather some courage. Without thinking about it too much, I rip my shirt off and stare deep into Peeta’s eyes. He stares deep into my eyes and looks conflicted. I can tell he is trying hard not to look down. “You can look,” I whisper somewhat boldly. The thrill of being exposed in front of him shoots through my body and I squeeze my thighs together reflexively.

I see his throat bob as he takes in my almost naked form. I am wearing a dark purple bra that does a pretty good job accenting my average sized breasts. I glance down to see my cleavage and wonder what Peeta thinks. Before I get the chance to look back up at him, he quickly sits down and snatches his controller.

“Ready?” he asks. I don’t know, why but I suddenly am annoyed with him for not showing any reaction.

“Uh, I guess?” I say.

“What?” he looks up at me, then quickly looks back down, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Maybe he is reacting after all…

I giggle, “Peeta?” He doesn’t look up and goes to grab a pillow. “Do I make you uncomfortable in my underwear?”

He places the pillow in his lap and I notice that his face is a dark scarlet. I laugh again, the alcohol fueling me on. “No, we still have to race Rainbow Road and you have two more items of clothing left,” he says shortly.

I giggle again, setting my controller down and crawling over to him on the couch like a cat. I know that it gives him a great view of my cleavage, as my breasts are now being pressed together and are almost spilling out of my cups. I have no idea why, but I suddenly feel the need to be closer to him and find out if what I suspect is true.

He glances sideways at me, and groans, “Come on Katniss.” I notice his voice has deepened an octave.

I laugh again, “Whatcha hiding under that pillow Peeta?” I reach for it but he pulls away.

“Quit it,” he growls, but I hear amusement in his voice so I keep going, crawling even closer to him. I reach for the pillow again and he pushes my arm down almost roughly. His forcefulness is making me even more excited, but I’m not sure why.

While he is distracted, I place the other hand on his warm, broad chest and use the extra stability to swing my other leg around to straddle him. “Come on Peeta!” I laugh. “You can admit it, I turn you on!” I can’t stop laughing.

My actions seem to have shocked him, because he doesn’t stop me when I grab the pillow and fling it across the room. I gasp when I see his impressive hard on straining through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. It shoots a sharp, delicious pang of desire straight through me. I realize that his hands, rough and big, are grasped tightly around my waist. They feel so good on my skin, which is suddenly aching to me touched.

I slowly lift my head up into his hypnotizing blue eyes. I feel two things simultaneously. The first is fear. The second is pure desire. I think it is the alcohol, but the second feeling wins out when I slowly lower myself down so that my pussy grinds directly down on his hardness. Even though we both still have our underwear on, we simultaneously gasp in pleasure. He feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know he will need to be the one to stop this.

We stare into each other’s eyes as I grind myself down in slow, delicious circles that leave me breathless. I feel the inferno coiling low in my belly as I deliberately rub up and down. “Admit it,” I gasp stubbornly, halting my movements after a few minutes.

His eyes seem even darker when he answers me finally, “You turn me on.” He pulls me back down on him forcefully and thrusts himself up at the same time, drawing a low moan from deep in my throat. “I want you,” he says after a beat, slowly dragging himself across my underwear, which is now soaked with want. “I always have.”

We are silent for a moment and I see his eyes shift and can tell he is unsure about what I want. The fear makes an appearance again as my drunk mind finally catches up with my body and I realize we are not playing a game anymore. This is real. Peeta wants me. He...has always wanted me. His eyes look so anxious and hopeful that I feel my heart melt a little.

“Kiss me,” I whisper. His eyes warm at my words as he tentatively leans in towards me. I feel his hot, sweet breath on my lips now.

He only pauses for a moment before his lips descend on mine. He is soft and sweet at first, letting his lips drag slow and sensuously across mine. I feel an insane need to taste him, so I pull his bottom lip between my own and suck hard. He tastes like beer and bread and something else I can’t put my finger on. But it is so good that a moan escapes me, low and deep in my throat.

As we kiss, I feel his hands travel slowly up my back, and I feel my nipples harden in my bra at his touch. I push my chest against his and he moans as my breasts are crushed against his broad chest. I feel the sensation all the way from my incredibly hard nipples straight down to my toes.

He lets his hands drift back down my back and rest high on my ribs, his thumbs grazing the silky material of my bra. His fingers feel like they are connected to an electric current that I can feel all over my body. He is inches from the underside of my breast and I continue to grind myself in slow circles over his hard shaft and moan against his lips in encouragement.

In response, he dips both of his thumbs beneath the underwire of my bra and slowly drags both across the underside of my breast. I can stop the loud moan that escapes my lips. “Peeta…” I whimper, and he pushes both of his hands under the bra cups and palms both breasts simultaneously. I press myself down on him harder and am rewarded with a deep moan from Peeta that is one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard in my life.

He pulls his right hand down my body has he continues to attack my breast and nipple with his left. Where in the world did he learn how to touch a woman like this?

All thoughts about Peeta’s previous sexual history fly out of my mind the moment that his fingers graze over my soaked panties. He presses against me and I feel myself shudder against his hand. “Fuck,” I gasp, as he drags one single finger over my underwear and down my center all the way to my ass.

Before I know what is happening Peeta has flipped us so that my back is against the long couch and he is leaning over me. I wonder what he is going to do and how far he wants to take this.

He slides over me and I feel him, hard and insistent at my thigh. Without stopping to think, I reach down under the waistband of his boxers. He groans as I wrap my hand around his thick shaft and start pumping him somewhat leisurely.

“God, Katniss…” he hisses. Within seconds he has pushed my panties to the side and dipped his thick fingers into my soaked wetness. “So wet,” he breathes.

“For you,” I moan. I pull my hand that is wrapped around his shaft out of his underwear and he stops for a moment when I reach down and join my hand with his. I coat myself in those juices before grasping him again. He groans again as I start to pump him harder, the wetness helping me to glide easily across his velvety hardness.

He slides his fingers eagerly through my searing folds, finding my clit and circling it with two fingers. White hot flashes burst across my vision and it takes all of the concentration I have to keep pumping him. His breath is at my ear now and his low moan is yet another bolt of pleasure to my throbbing center.

“Harder,” I moan into his ear, knowing that I’m close. He dips down into my wetness again to coat himself before pressing his fingers down and slowly dragging them both back and forth across my aching clit. “Peeta,” I whimper.

“Fuck,” he groans and I wrap my fingers a little tighter around his shaft and continue to pump faster until I feel him pulsing. Warm liquid seeps down my arm. In that moment he presses that much harder into my clit with his thumb and I feel myself falling over the edge. My back arches up off the couch and our chests collide as I thrash and moan against him.

After a few moments we both slide our hands out of each others underwear and I sink down into the couch. I try not to touch anything with my right hand, which has some white stickiness on it. We are both breathing heavily and he leans back slightly to gaze seriously into my eyes.

I see a question there, so I arch my neck up and give him a sweet kiss on the lips. He smiles after I pull back, and an unexpected warmth pools in my belly. I am glad that he doesn’t regret this.

“I changed my mind,” Peeta whispers with a smile.

“About what?” I ask, alarmed.

“Turns out that strip Mario Kart is my favorite game of all time,” he says, his bright blue eyes shining.

“We’ll have to play again,” I answer. “Maybe I’ll even let you win next time.”

"If that isn't winning I don't know what is," he whispers, capturing my lips in yet another sweet kiss.

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