#riding style | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waru-chan8 · 6 months

Note

I’m a new motogp fan and was wondering about the riding style for the riders and what is the “famous” riding style between them so if you could like tell me about it please?

Hi there anon 👋👋👋👋. I know I've been labelled as the tech expert, but I'm far from it. I'll try to explain the little I know the best I can.

Riding style is the way a rider rides a bike and there are as many riding styles as riders there are in the world. A riding style can evolve/change depending on the bike or set-up or how a rider is usually feeing (injuries). Also history made them change. We can't conceive races without riders touching the asphalt, but initially they didn't

There are stuff that is more easy to spot as how much a rider leans and how they do it when they are in the kerb or which part of a rider touches the asphalt. For example, first riders used to stay upwards an completely lean the bike, whereas now the turning comes from the riders accompanying the bike. There are riders that don't touch the ground at all, other just with the knee, knee and elbow and now some (Martín for sure) with the shoulder too. I think someone mentioned touching the asphalt with the shin of the helmet. And how much the lean the bike, hence why you see so many angles. Martín is one of the riders that lean it a lot, while Aleix is the oposite, bare minimum, just to turn in.

Riding stile is also hugging/staying close to the bike or be 'away form it'. There are riders to seem like thy will fall, but stay hugged to the tank (most extreme case is Rins) and other that put as much distance with it as they can (Martín). And things in between. Also the famous kicks/putting the feet in the asphalt before turning. Some riders do to reduce the velocity others don't, and others just when the bike/body calls for it.

There's also stuff not so visual, like they behaviour on track, thriving when in group batelling (Marc) and other's that face problems/can't fight at al (I want to say Luca, but he got good at this like we saw today). It's about destroying the tyres at the start and then manage them or nurse them to last as much as you can, so they are at the best at the end of the race (Joan and Rins)

And the most important in here might be the lines and breaking. When we talk about the lines is about always picking the same part of the tarmac and doing the same over and over again having similar lap times, and every time hitting it. Fermín in Moto2 is apparently a good rider in this, always finding where to go. In MotoGP I'll say Rins, but sometime he chooses the most unconventional ones and also Jorge Lorenzo. He was a fucking clock. Other riders do whatever they can to stay on the bike and do not replicate as well. In this case is adapting at the evolving conditions of the track and bike as the grip and the weigh varies. And then we have the braking and this about where and how to break. There are riders that break hard and late, some just late and some just hard. There are others that prefer to break little and do the whole turn breaking in a constant way and others prefer to break at the start to be able to pick the bike early. Hard and late breakers can be Marc and Brad. Martín is a hard breaker and I think Aleix is a late one (but I can be wrong). On the other side of the spectrum, Dani Pedrosa is an early breaker and then was he one to pick the bike the earlier. There are riders that still try to replicate this without no available. I think Maverick is like this. Rins for example is no breaker at all, he will break as little as he can and accelerate as much as he could as soon as possible. There are other that got so good at this that at the middle of turning they where still breaking and where opening the gas (I can't remember if it was Casey or Hayden)

And then there's the things we don't see, like bike balance and setup. Where the weight is on the bike? Front? Balanced? Back of the bike? Suspension, break, etc. For example Fermín likes to have as much feedback from the front as he wants so the weight is mostly on the front, while Alonso likes a more balanced one. When riders talk about the feedback is about interpreting the 'signals' and grip the tyres and bike gives them and they get it with setups and weight distribution, etc. There are also riders that don't mind a sliding rear, meaning the bike will move a bit, while others can't have it,

With all of this we get 'rider profile' like 'old' school, 'new' school, 'smooth' rider or aggressive, but there are more. Like Martín is from the wave of new rider. Meaning they like to hang out of the bike as much as they can, while Bezz is a more old school, he will stay closer to the bike. Rins is a smooth/gentle rider and the way to describe it is like he is dancing with the bike, he is one with it (probably there's a technical term for this, but I don't know it) and Marc/Brad are more aggressive, it's like they fight with it at each moment. Aleix has his own category for some reason.

There's no better or worst riding style as you can see Bezz and Jorge both have results whith such different riding styles. And by the way, Pecco is in between them. Same with Rins and Marc with the Honda.

The only way to really understand this is watch them ride and listen what they say or like. And when looking at them, look at what they do in FPs or when they are alone on track because that's their 'natural' riding style, while in the middle of a group they need to adjust. Some do better than other.

I think @blorbogp could help as they're more experts than me. I hope this helps because there's a lot

#Ask #Anon's tag #MotoGP #Moto2 #Moto3 #Tech Talk #Riding style

45 notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 10 months

Text

innocent | H.S oneshot

my masterlist

summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.

requested by @shqtteredcrystql1

a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3

———

You shake your head at yourself.

You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?

You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.

You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.

The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.

It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.

Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.

“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.

You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.

“Why?” You said, slightly amused.

“Because.” He stated.

So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.

Bringing you seated in his lap.

“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.

Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.

This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.

And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.

And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.

Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.

Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.

His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.

“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.

Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.

Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.

Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.

“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.

“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.

The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.

And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.

“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.

“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.

Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.

His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.

Your heart is stuttering.

You’re so— confused?

He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?

Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.

The heat radiating from you.

You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.

Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.

The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.

Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.

There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.

Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.

After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.

His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.

A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.

Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.

“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.

“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”

He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”

“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.

He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.

You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.

“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.

He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.

And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.

“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.

His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.

“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”

“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”

“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”

You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.

“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.

All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.

His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.

“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”

He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.

“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.

“Oh—“

You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.

“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.

“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.

“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.

“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”

“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.

“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”

You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.

He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.

“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.

“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.

He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.

“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.

You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.

“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”

“I won’t, please keep going…”

You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.

“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.

“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.

“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”

He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.

He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.

“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.

He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.

Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.

“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.

His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.

You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.

“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass

“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.

“Ever, huh?”

You nod, “Ever.”

He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.

The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.

That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.

He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.

“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.

“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.

The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.

He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.

“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.

“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.

“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.

“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”

Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.

Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.

“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.

“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”

Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.

The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.

“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.

He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.

You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.

“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.

You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.

He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.

Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.

“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.

“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.

You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.

You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.

You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.

Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Taste like a dream, my darling.”

He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.

“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.

You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.

You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.

Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.

“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.

“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”

You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”

“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.

“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.

“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.

“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”

You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”

He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”

“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.

“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”

“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”

You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.

He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.

Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.

His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.

Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.

Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.

You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.

He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.

“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.

“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.

“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.

Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.

“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.

“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.

You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.

“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.

You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.

“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.

“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.

“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.

Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.

“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.

“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.

He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.

“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.

You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.

Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.

Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.

Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.

You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.

“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.

“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.

You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”

Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.

“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”

“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

———

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #fanfiction #best friend!harry #fwb harry #he’s so fine #fbh #frat boy harry #harry styles smutshot #smut #thigh riding

2K notes · View notes