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poisonofthepaint · 4 months ago

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lucky you

jack calls you in on your day off, which leads to hooking up in the on-call room, which leads to him finding your tattoo.

wc: 2.5k

cw: MDNI, semi-public sex, f!reader, age gap, pinv, oral, lmk if i'm missing anything!

The date you were heading toward was less than exciting. You knew you needed a life outside of the hospital, Dana had given you a wake up call last week. You had been working doubles like it was nothing, but this was your first day off in a while, so you figured you’d download a dating app, get a free dinner on a Friday night. Not that you couldn’t afford dinner, this was more like dinner and a show. Max was a kind guy, but you could tell he didn’t take you seriously— that he underestimated you. So this was your chance to show up a man, and have him pay for your dinner. Win win.

Then, your phone rings. The ringtone that you have set for hospital staff interrupts your music and blares through the speakers. You groan, checking to see who it was. You were surprised to see that it was Jack, you figured since he was agreeing so hard with Dana last week that he would be the last person calling you.

“It’s my day off,” you answer

“I need you here.” Jack sounds out of breath.

“Are you kidding?”

“You know I’m not. Ellis is sick, I thought we could manage but we cannot. I need you here.”

“You’re buying me dinner.” you say, exasperated.

“Gladly,” Jack ends the call.

You know he wouldn’t call you unless it was actually an emergency, Jack wasn’t like that. He wanted to be able to manage. He wanted to be able to handle it by himself. So when he calls you, it’s important. You take off the blue dress you had on, switching it out for a plain white t-shirt before throwing your scrubs on top. You grab the bookbag full of your supplies for shifts and head out of your apartment.

The hospital is only a few blocks from your apartment, so you walk. It’s a bit chilly out; the springtime air blowing through the trees. It looks like it’s gonna storm, and you get to the hospital right before it starts, ducking your head as you walk into the entrance.

The patients are grouchy in the waiting room, all groaning and yelling. The seats must’ve been taken up hours ago, there’s more people standing than sitting. You push your way through the front door.

“Good, you’re here.” Abbot was waiting at the doors like he had timed you. “You’re not supposed to wear perfume here.” he chastises.

“Had already sprayed it when you called me, figured I didn’t have time to shower.”

“Right,” his eyes catch yours and he refuses to look away. “We have a lot of injuries from a car crash. A bunch of guys were speeding on the highway and about six of them were sitting in the open truck bed. A semi driver didn’t see them swerving around and knocked them off the road.”

Jack finally breaks eye contact and walks away, you follow him back into Trauma 1. There’s a young guy, probably around twenty-three, screaming in pain. His hand is holding on by a string, like, literally. It’s barely connected.

“Noah, this is my best resident, she’s gonna take a look at you.” Jack tells him, yelling over the boy’s own screeching.

“I don’t care who she is, fix my fucking hand! I’m on a baseball scholarship!”

“I’m really glad I cancelled my date to be here.” you say, examining his arm.

“You were going on a date?” he says, you think you hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, but you brush it off.

“Aren’t you the one who told me to go have fun?” Jack doesn’t answer, just goes back to the patient, and you do too.

There are a lot of injuries, some superficial, some very serious. Noah will lose his hand, because he was stupid. You learn that he was the driver of the truck, and that he was drinking. You try to have empathy for all of your patients, but it’s hard when they’re being willingly stupid, and killing their friends. Noah heads up into surgery, and everything is rather stable now. The ED returns to its normal business, waiting for beds upstairs, triaging emergencies from the ambulances.

You sit at your station and chart your patients, trying to remember all that happened in the whirlwind of your arrival. Jack stands right in front of you, charting as well. He looks back once, twice.

“You need something?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Nah, just making sure you’re good.”

“I am just peachy, although I could use some dinner.” you smile up at him brightly.

He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, “Guess I did promise.”

Jack pulls out his phone, opening DoorDash before handing it over to you. You swipe through the restaurants before you find some Chinese place that catches your eye. You put what you want in the cart before handing his phone back to him.

“Thank you, Dr. Abbot!” you get up from your seat and go to do a round of checkups.

You briefly see him shake his head as he looks down at his phone.

It’s a while before the food gets there, and even longer for the driver to argue with the nurse at triage. Jack finally sees the commotion and goes out and grabs it, apologizing to the nurse.

He calls you over and you grab the food, heading into the breakroom. You sit down and open up the paper brown bag. You think about how your night worked out, you got free dinner and a show anyway. And this was actually a show you quite enjoyed. You did love your job, maybe an unhealthy amount. But you had worked so hard to get here, and you were good at it. You were Abbot’s best resident. You were fast at assessing and scoping out which treatment would be best. You flew around the ED like it was nothing to you.

After a few minutes of eating alone, Jack came to join you, taking what he ordered out of the bag.

“So, what’s wrong with Ellis?” you pry.

“She thinks she has the flu, super high fever and throwing up.”

“Got it, just wanted to make sure this wasn’t all a ploy to get me here on my day off.”

“And if it was?” Jack asks.

You’re stunned for a second before you regain yourself, “Then I would say you’re very unprofessional, and that you’re interfering with my personal life.”

He shrugs– smirks, “You don’t want a healthy work life balance. Plus, we have fun together, don’t we?”

You try not to think about how he can read you; how he’s got you memorized like you’re the back of his hand. “We do.”

You finish your food and throw the empty container in the trash, excusing yourself. You swoop into the on-call room, trying to calm yourself. You rest your back against the door and swipe a hand down your face.

The truth is, you’ve had a crush on Jack since your first day at The Pitt. it was a schoolgirl one at first, you thought he was cute. It was fun to be attracted to your boss; to have a little work crush that you could be excited about. But then, it started getting deeper, Jack paid extra attention to you, he could tell that you actually enjoyed the ED. You were always with him on cases, he picked you for his ‘team’ during busy mass casualties. He got to know you, you got to know him. He was no longer a mysterious crush who you just thought was cute. You liked him, in a way you didn’t want to. It was distracting some days. It was even more distracting when you had a feeling you weren’t being delusional. When you wondered why he called you, a second year resident, instead of one of the seniors, or another attending.

There’s a knock at the door, and you open it, shocked to see Jack standing outside. He walks in and you allow him, moving out of the way so he can lock the door behind him. You can feel your heart in your throat. You sit down on the bed, hoping it’ll stabilize you.

There’s silence; tension you could cut with a knife. He stands with his hands resting on a countertop. The storm rages outside the window, a big crack of thunder rings throughout the room. Jack is just looking, trying to scope you out. He pushes off and approaches you. You swallow, and look down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact, but Jack isn’t having any of it. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. He leans down, presses his forehead against yours. He lets his lips ghost yours— just barely.

“Tell me to stop.” he begs, out of breath, just like when he called you.

You place a hand on his neck, fingers threading lightly through the hair at the bottom, “What if I don’t want you to?” He groans, burrows his head into your neck. “I want it, Jack, of course I want it.”

That’s all it takes. His lips are on yours without another beat. The kiss is rough— needy. Your teeth clash against each other, and his tongue explores your mouth. He lays you back onto the bed and your legs open, making room for him. He settles himself and gets to work on your neck, his hand slowly slides up your shirt, resting on your stomach.

He’s still being cautious, you think. You push his hand up and he cups your breast. He makes a strained noise when he feels the lace on your bra.

“You were gonna wear that for him?” Jack asks, right into your ear.

“No, I was wearing it for myself.” an honest answer.

Jack rips your pants off and sees, what he assumes, is the matching thong. The underwear shifts down a bit, and you think Jack is gonna pass out.

Your small tattoo, a mistake from undergrad. A scripture on your hip that reads, ‘lucky you.’

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, kid.” he brushes his thumb over the words. Thinks about them. Doesn’t move for a minute.

“Good thing we’re in an emergency department.”

The nickname sends a wave of arousal through you, just like it always does. It’s how he usually referred to you during emergencies, when you’d catch something that no one else saw. It was how he praised you. You never imagined you’d hear it in this context.

Jack stands up and you whine. He quickly strips off his clothes and is back on you in a second. He rests on his stomach and kisses your tattoo sloppily.

He rips off your underwear with ferocity. You’d be smart to feel a tinge of embarrassment. He is your boss. But you don’t. This feels right, this feels good. He swipes a finger through your folds and you keen.

“So wet for me.” he mumbles.

Jack wastes no more time. His tongue makes quick work on your clit. He moves like he knows you. Like he’s done this a million times, like there’s no room for error. And there isn’t. You both knew this needed to be quick. There were patients outside of the door, and the nurses and other doctors will be wondering where you two went. He works at your clit and you try your hardest to not make any noise. He looks up at you while his tongue is buried in you, and you let out a cry. He reaches a free hand up and covers your mouth. You bite down on it and let your head fall back on the lumpy pillow.

Then, Jack pulls away. “The fuck?” you say it into his hand, so it’s a bit muffled.

“We’ve only got time for one thing. You’re gonna come when I do. Just had to get you ready.” He says.

You want to salute. You want to scream. You don’t really know how this is happening.

Jack pulls off his boxers and you gulp. You see why he needed to get you ready. The length alone was bigger than anything you’ve taken, but he was girthy too.

He pulls a condom out of a drawer in the room. “Did you stash that in here?” you laugh.

“No, they keep them in here. I always wondered why, but now I see.”

He rolls it on quickly and comes back to the bed. He rests on his heels, taking you in. “Are you sure?” Jack asks again.

“I’m positive. I’ve wanted this since I met you.”

He nods slowly, small smile coming to his lips. He moves so his hands are right next to your head. Jack lines himself up with your entrance and sinks in deep.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “So fucking tight.”

“You feel so good,” you cry.

“Yeah? This good for you?” He sets a brutalizing pace, hips never faltering. His head falls into your neck again. “Your perfume is driving me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Could smell you whipping around this hospital. Every time you passed me, I thought I was going to have to take you right there.”

He’s rambling now, you realize. Pussydrunk from how you feel.

“Maybe I’ll have to wear it more, break the rules a bit, if it leads to this.” you say, resisting the urge to moan in the middle of your sentences.

He pants, stifles his own noises. “You’re close,” you say.

“It’s been a while, every time I went on a date, I would just think of you.”

“Is that true?”

“I’m already in your pants, no reason to lie.” his hips start to stutter. “Y’gonna come with me?”

You scope out the feeling in your stomach and focus in on it, Jack brings a hand down between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. “Fuck, God, yes. Yes, I am.”

The room is filled with heavy breaths, the air has gone thick. You spot a bolt of lightning run through the sky and grab Jack’s head, bringing his ear down to your mouth. “Now,” you whisper.

The thunder hits right as you both finish. It’s loud enough to mask the noises neither of you could hold back. He continues the pace until you come down. You both gasp into each other. Jack slowly pulls out, taking the condom over to the trash can and burying it under some paper towels.

He comes back to the bed and sits on the edge, massaging your shin. “I’m gonna make an assumption and say that was the best sex of your life,” you scoff, but don’t deny it. “But, we have to get back.”

“I know,” you say, wishing you could stay in this room forever. “God, this is really gonna fuck with my work life balance.”

Jack laughs and stands up, placing a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, lucky girl. We’ll figure it out.”

#jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot smut #jack ⋆⁺₊❅. ㅤ

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minalover · 1 month ago

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CHLOE & GABI OR: THE DRIVERS ED LESBIANS @911pride day one: lesbian | sex | parade

she said i was weak and didn't know how to face my problems. so i left town. i'm not unaware that i'm running away, i kind of proved her point. just keep moving. you did the right thing... i mean, moving out here. whoever she was, she's in your rear view now. thanks.

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f1fantasys · 11 months ago

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No, because I absolutely love your writing. You write smut so good. So I was think could you write something with Lando where he's reader's sugar daddy and they fuck alot but Lando is down bad for her. (No lando with toher girls, though) With a happy ending, my queen. 🧎‍♀️

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you like my writing! And i hope you enjoy this. Remember, requests are always open.

Whats yours is mine, whats mine is yours

Warnings: heavy smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral f receiving, fingering, anal.

Lando Norris.

The hot fuckboy you met last year at the Monaco race where you were one of the grid girls. The minute your eyes met before the race started, you knew how the night would end.

It was sweeter because Lando had won the race. He quickly found you as his media duties ended, pulling you into his drivers' room. No words were spoken at first, just intense gazes, both knowing what the other wanted.

What was supposed to be just a one time fuck had turned into 3, 7 and now 12 months of fucking.

You both weren't in the right space for a relationship, so never even mentioned such. You were just finishing uni, starting an internship in Monaco, still trying to make grounds meet, while Lando was in a different city every week, so it made no sense.

You were fine with what you thought was just a one night stand, but you couldn't see yourself fitting into Lando's lavish lifestyle. He tried many times to assure you that he would take care of all your needs, even help you while setting your life up in Monaco. It wasn't until the third time you saw each other that Lando and you made a pact - friends with benefits, though he would continue to help you.

To be honest, you weren't expecting much from him. The sex was incredible, and you'd take it anytime. But he often showered you with lush gifts and expensive items, dropping money into your account without thinking. Normally you'd be opposed to accepting such from people, but the man was an f1 driver, and you were having fun, so you allowed yourself to indulge in everything he had to offer.

You'd text or call here and there whenever he was away, and he'd invited you to a few races as well, so you could use each other as you pleased.

One thing you wouldn't admit to anyone, was how you were falling more and more for Lando each time you saw him recently. You didn't allow your thought or feelings to consume you because you knew he was probably fucking every other girl everywhere he traveled, not so much as even thinking of you.

What you didn't know though was how deep in Lando himself was. The minute he layed eyes on you, he knew he was done for. You were beautiful, had long, lush hair, skin so smooth he always kissed every corner of it, and curves so sexy he'd get hard just thinking of you. He wasn't generous to you because he pity-ed you - no. You deserved everything single beautiful thing on this planet, and he made it his mission to give it all to you. He'd give you the moon if he could. You also didn't know that he hasn't slept with anyone since your first night together. He'd tried, but no one was a good as you, and he found himself comparing them all to you - so before it would get as far as penetrative sex, he would already be walking out or pushing the girl through his door.

Lando wouldn't dare make his feeling known because it would be unfair to expect you to accept his job and his traveling. One year on and you were doing well for yourself - working a full time job, and growing with each step you take. He didn't want to take all of that away from you just for him.

Lando had texted you earlier that he was on the way home from Nice, telling you to go wait for him in his apartment.

While you were waiting for him in his room, you wondered if he'd bring other girls here on the nights you didn't spend together. Would he fuck them senseless as he did you, devour their pussy's like he was a starved man, and moan their name when he came as he did yours?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Lando suddenly walked through the bedroom door. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were that you missed hearing the front door open.

''Hey, you good?'' he asked, seeing your face contorted with confusion. ''Huh? Uh, yeah, sorry, thinking about work'' you lied.

You sat on your knees as he walked up to you and cupped your face, leaning down to lock his lips with yours in a feverish kiss.

His actions had you moaning already, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth as he slowly started removing your clothes.

Once you were left in just your panties he pulled back and stripped his own clothes.

You watching in anticipation as he finally took off his boxers, revealing his thick girth, swollen and standing tall.

He smirked, ''Like what you see?'' he asked. You licked your lips, ''So much'' you said, wasting no time in taking him into your hands and pumping him a few times.

It had been a while since you had seen each other so to finally feel your hands on the place he craved you the most, he was twitching uncontrollably in your hands.

''Someones' needy'' you chuckled as your thumb spread the pre-cum all over his tip, watching as his core muscles flexed with every movement.

Lando's breath increased and he couldn't take just your hands anymore. ''Fuck y/n, please'' he begged.

Normally you'd liked to have teased him a bit more, hear him beg a bit more, but honestly, you were just as desperate for him.

You finally leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth, sucking on it harshly as Lando held your head in his hands, guiding your movements.

He slid in as much as you could take, hitting the back of your throat which had you gagging around him.

''So pretty for me, taking me so well'' he whispered as he began to move, fucking himself into your pace at a raw pace.

You held onto his thighs tightly as Lando took full control, using you how he wanted because he knew how much it turned you on.

You already felt your core dripping wet, clenching achingly around nothing, so you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together.

The sounds you were making right now were borderline pornographic - Lando was throwing out moans and swear words like crazy, you were moaning and groaning at his relentless movements in and out of your mouth, and then there were the wet, slick and sloshy noises of his dick sliding through your spit which was now running out your mouth and messing your chin.

''Fuck baby, not gonna last long now, where do you want me?'' he asked, as always. When you didn't respond, he knew he was to finish in your mouth.

So he did - Lando's dick was throbbing uncontrollably as he came violently, shooting ropes of warm cum down your throat as his hold on your head tightened. ''Shit, how do you do that, fuck, yes'' he moaned.

''Hmm'' you hummed at the taste of him, slowly working him through his high as he slowly softened second by second.

You pulled off with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, breath heavy and lips swollen as you looked at Lando, who's eyes were still shut, his own breathing quick. ''Missed that so much'' he said, genuinely smiling down at you, releasing his tight hold of your head.

He now picked you up and off the bed, headed into the bathroom and placed you on the counter.

You hissed at the coldness as wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a sense of urgency and desperation, this time sliding your own tongue into his mouth and pulling at his hair.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot as you bit on your lower lip, trying to keep your body from trembling since he had barely touched you yet.

''Hmmm Lando, please'' you begged, not sure what for, though quickly releasing a breath when his mouth landed on your left nipple, tugging and pulling at it, showing it no mercy.

Your nails dug deep into his biceps when he rolled your other nipple between his fingers harshly.

When he pulled back to spread your legs open, your breath hitched at seeing a string of spit still connecting his mouth to your nipple, and he smirked too when he noticed it. It might have been a small thing, but it was so hot, and you couldn't help but pull him closer and kiss him again. You fought each other, teeth clashing and biting one another until he finally pushed you back to lean against the mirror.

''Need to taste you'' he mumbled, spreading your legs open again and licking his lips when he saw your glistening core, dripping down your thighs.

You latched your hands onto Lando's hair as he leaned down and licked your juices that had leaked out of your pussy, letting his mouth travel further to place you were eager for him to devour.

As he teased you, taking his time to get there, Lando noticed how your lips were twitching, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. He smirked again, ''I'm home baby, I'm gonna take care of you''

You tried not to think too deep at his words, he probably said that just because of how turned on he was, but something was telling you he meant something deeper, more meaningful.

Though your thoughts were cut off when he finally let his tongue run through your slick folds, slurping up your sticky juices before he found your clit and sucked on it roughly.

''Fuck me Lando'' you said as your legs were starting to close around his head but he stopped your movements by placing his strong hands on them, holding them down and in place.

''Oh I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry'' he said, spit and your wetness already making a mess on his face.

Lando suddenly thrust two fingers through your entrance causing your back to arch from the mirror, gasping for hair as he was already curling them at the right spongy spots, while his tongue still slaughtered your clit.

''Hmmm fuck, not gonna last long Lan'' you managed through your fuzzy brain, pulling at Lando's hair harder than before.

He sped up his movements, edging you on and within minutes you were a shuddering mess above him, releasing your cum straight into his mouth as he moaned at the taste of you, warm and salty.

''Shit Lando'' you said through gritted teeth and he slowed his fingers, eventually pulling them out and licking them clean, eyes darker than usual staring into yours.

It was what he did next though that had you already wet for more. He leaned forward and let your cum drip from his mouth into yours, then kissing you harshly as he lifted your ass off the counter and carried you back to his bedroom.

As he placed you back on the bed, hovering above you, you gave him access to your neck so you could try and catch your breath, get ready for what was to come next.

Your hands roamed his body, memorizing every outline of his muscles, before settling on his girth and sliding it through your folds a few times, lubing it up.

''Gonna be my whore and let me fill you up?'' he whispered, the nickname nothing new for you.

''Please, i need you'' you whined, getting impatient.

''Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, yeah?''

''Give it to me'' you said, smiling eagerly.

And he did.

Lando slammed into your pussy with a force that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, until you nodded your head so he could start moving.

Lando pulled out completely before ramming into you again and again, showing you no mercy, the both of you moaning and on the edge of a high so delicious.

''So fucking tight, taking my big dick so well baby'' he murmured, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, biting it through his teeth and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

''Lan, please, I'm close''

''I know angel, you can let it out'' he said, because he was trying to hard not to let himself cum before you, though he was shamelessly ready to do so the minute he started fucking you.

''Cum quickly so i can fill you up and fuck a baby into you'' he said, not thinking his words through. Both your eyes widened, but quickly got replaced when your body was suddenly shaking, your orgasm ripping through you violently.

When Lando felt your walls clench painfully around his dick, he went into overdrive, and before he could register what was happening, he was emptying his load into you, ropes of cum milking its way deep into you as it was his turn to be shaking above you.

''Fuck y/n, fuck'' he cooed, both your hearts racing, groaning at the intensity of the situation.

Lando let his weight fall on your body as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting him bury his head in your neck.

You shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sweaty sides, the cool air of the night also causing goosebumps along the rest of yours and his body.

You stayed like that for a while, Lando softening still inside of you until he moved and pulled out, both of you hissing at the loss contact. He disappeared into the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up - he always did. Once that was done and you were dressed again you knew it was time to leave even though you didn't want to.

Lando, wearing just his boxers climbed into bed while you sat there awkwardly at the edge of his bed. You wished he'd want you to lie next to him, cuddling each other, but you quickly had to wipe that though out of your head.

''I guess..I'll see you around you said, grabbing your phone off his side table.

''Yeah, I'll call. In town for a bit'' he said, catching your hand and bringing to his lips for a quick kiss.

And with that you smiled and left.

You didn't hear from him for about a week, until the morning he was leaving for Monza.

''How quickly can you get to mine?'' was all he'd texted.

Before you could respond, he sent another one.

''Leaving for Monza in 45, come over for a quick 'un?''

''I'm on my way'' you replied.

He was standing in his foyer, waiting for you, and the minute you walked in he had you pressed against the shut door.

Lando wasted no time in bunching your work dress up and sliding your panties to the side, quickly thrusting two fingers into you as you cupped his face and kissed him roughly.

He bought your orgasm over you quickly, breath harsh on your neck as you trembled in his arms.

You both hadn't even said anything to each other, too lost in getting down to business.

Lando quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its constraints, pumped himself a few times before lining up at you entrance.

He held you by your hips against the door, pushing himself into you quickly, bottoming out, and this time gave you no chance to get used to him - instead he fucked into you hard and fast, the both of you moaning with each thrust as you looked at each other, lost in a wave of ecstasy.

''Lando, uh'' you moaned as you felt him deep within you, your walls clenching around him achingly.

''I know'' he said through breaths, bringing his thumb down to toy with your clit, which in turn sent you into another orgasmic bliss, your liquid gushing on to him like a tidal wave as your body was once again shaking in his arms.

''So good'' you managed to whisper as he increased his movements, chasing his high as he become clumsier and sloppier by the second.

Then he came hard and fast, filling you up with the warm sticky liquid as he chanted your name over and over, leaning down to kiss you, biting on you bottom lip as you both came down from you high.

This time there was no time to clean you up. He kissed you once more before rushing out, leaving you to clean yourself and lock up with the spare key you had, your heart clenching from wanting more.

Your phone buzzed, you saw he'd just put 3000 pounds into your account. That no more excited you though. Money and materialistic things were nothing compared to the life you wanted with all of him. But you still thanked him.

3 weeks later and you knew he was on summer break though he hasn't texted you. You convinced yourself he was probably still out of the country.

Another two weeks had passed with no contact. You missed him so much. You missed the sex, so much. Pleasuring yourself was not remotely close to how Lando made you feel.

Now a whole 5 weeks later and you were so tempted to message him, see where he was. You'd seen on social media that he had in fact been home during these weeks, but you held out because what if he didn't want to see you? What if he was done with you? You don't think you could handle the rejection if you heard the words from his mouth - so rather let it end without any words being spoken.

You'd just finished work and had stopped by a restaurant to get some takeout for dinner. While sitting and waiting for your order you heard his voice. You both looked at each other at the same time, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was with Martin Garrix, who rushed over to you and enveloped you in a big hug as Lando stood there awkwardly before he walked up to you. Martin left to go to the bathroom.

You tried to keep a neutral face, tried to keep the blush off your face. He looked so hot in his tank top and shorts, a necklace gracing his neck, and his lush curls which bounced off in different directions as he ran a hand through his hair.

''Hey'' he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

You cleared your throat. ''Uh hey, wasn't sure you were back'' you said, pretending you hadn't known his every where-about for the summer.

''Yeah, just been busy'' he said.

It had never been this awkward before, the both of you just staring at each other, not knowing what to say, but a teasy blush on both your cheeks.

Not 10 minutes later and you were riding him in his Mclaren. If someone asked you how you ended up like this, you wouldn't know the answer. All you knew what how good it felt to finally be fucking him again. You were sat on top of him, dress bunched up to your waist, and his shorts half way down his legs as you rode him, hard and fast.

Lando's mouth were stuck on your boobs, showing your nipples no mercy, while you hands ran through his hair multiple times, pulling and tugging at it.

Luckily he was parked in a secluded area, but surely the people walking by could hear the two of you. But you didn't care. Your moans you obscene, while his just sounded sexy as hell, praising you through gritted teeth at how good you were for him, how he missed his slut.

You came at the same time, shuddering and shaking in each others arms as you rode out your highs, Lando finally cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it, like he was savoring the moment.

As you stopped moving, you allowed your body to slump forward onto him, trying to catch your breath as he lazily played with your hair.

''Sorry I didn't call sooner'' he said, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing you gently.

''It's ok. Just don't wait this long. I've needed you, Lando''

''Oh, i can drop you some money now'' he said, moving to get his phone straight away.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening until your brain caught up.

''What?'- No, no, Lando that's now what i meant'' you said quickly.

''No?'' he asked.

You took a breath. ''I mean I've missed you. As in you! Physically'' you said, sending him a wink.

He couldn't keep his own smile in. ''Yeah?''

''Uh huh'' you said, kissing him again.

''Well then, I promise. I'll always tell you when I'm back in town''

''Thank you'' you said, pecking him once more before lifting yourself off him and putting your pantie right again.

Since then, Lando had actually texted you multiple times. He'd even called you. You'd had phone sex too. And as much as you were enjoying all this, you still wished for more.

The next time you saw he showed up unannounced at your house. You'd just been having a lazy Saturday night in, wearing just a robe and nothing else when your door bell rang.

You looked through the peephole and couldn't have opened the door faster. There stood a breathless Lando, eyes dark and intense.

You pulled him in. ''Hey, you okay? Why're you so out of breath? you asked, concern etched on your face.

''Because i ran here. Was forced into going on a date, was halfway through when i realized something''

Your heart clenched at hearing him say he was on a date, but you stood strong.

''What's that?'' you barely whispered.

''I want you. Only you. All of you'' he said, cupping your face, waiting for you to answer him.

''I-What?''

''Dammit it y/n. I want you, all of you. I've wanted all of you since the first day we met''

''Lando'' you said raising your hands to rest on top of his, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

''I like you, so much, and I want to do life with you'' he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

''Fuck. I like you too Lando, too much. I-I-''

But before you could finish your sentence he crashed his lips to yours. Urgent and feverish, literally taking your breath away as you pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up by your ass and carried you to your room, dropping you on the bed before hovering above you.

''You're mine now y/n, for as long as you'll have me'' he said, slowly stripping your robe off, eyes darkening even more when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath.

''Fucking hell'' he mumbled, his large calloused hands squeezes your boobs as his eyes stayed glue to them.

''Lando, more'' you begged, beginning to remove his belt and strip his own clothes off.

''Relax baby, we've got all the time'' he said, smirking at you.

Once he was finally left in just his boxers, you slid your hands past them, taking his thick dick and pumping him as his lips found yours again.

''Gonna make you feel good, yeah?'' he asked.

''Fuck, please. Fuck me''

Lando's fingers slid down and rolled through your folds harshly, pinching your clit, before letting 3 fingers enter you at once.

''Getting you ready for me, open for me'' he said, voice thick with his British accent.

He roughly thrust his fingers in and out of you, while his other hand rolled your left nipple between his fingers.

When he was done with your boobs, he moved his whole body down as his fingers still fucked your cunt, and this time he added his mouth into action.

Violently lapping and sucking at your core as if he was starved, while all you could do was let out a series of filthy moans, pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, go on'' he said, praising you for how good you were doing for him.

Within minutes you were quivering, your orgasm washing through you as you came all over his face and fingers, not slowing his movements until you eventually came a second time, all but screaming his name.

''Lan'' you said between breaths, trying your best to let your brain catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, so good. I-I, taste you. Need to taste you'' you said, already trying to get out his grip and onto your knees, through he stopped you.

''Later, need to fuck you first'' he said, sternly.

You didn't argue because you were also desperate to feel him fill you up.

Lando shred his boxers off and ran his cock through your folds a few times.

The action had you pussy trying to clench desperately around something.

Just as he was about to push in, he stopped, looking at you with a smirk.

''Wanna try something new?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you were quick to reply.

He got shy for literally a second, then his eyes went dark again.

''Anal?'' he asked softly.

Your breath hitched. It had been something you'd talked about but never got round to actually doing.

When he saw you got quiet, he quickly added ''Shit, we don't have to,'' trying to resume pushing his dick into you.

''What-fuck. Yes, I want to'' you said breathlessly.

''Yeah?

''Please'' you said, already successfully shimmying out of his grasp and turning your body around, taking a hold of the headboard as you stuck your ass in the air.

Lando's hands gently ran all over your ass, squeezing your cheeks and giving you a few gentle slaps, just fun, nothing hectic.

''Gonna stretch you out a bit?''

''Ýeah. Do whatever, I'm yours'' you said, biting your lip in anticipation.

Lando leaned down and gave you a few fluttering kisses and his index finger toyed at your entrance for a bit.

He pulled away and reached it to your mouth, letting you suck it and coat it in your spit before he returned it to your hole and gently started to push in.

You held your breath, shut your eyes, not knowing what to expect.

''That's it baby, tell me if you want me to stop'' he said, pushing in some more.

''No, keep going''

Just as he was about half way in, he quickly popped his middle finger into his own mouth before letting that too slide through and into you.

Feeling both of his rough fingers had you moaning, gasping for air, as Lando started to thrust them in and out of you now.

''You're doing so good. How does it feel?''

''Weird. But so good. Fuck Lando'' you said through heavy breaths.

Not 5 minutes later and your cum was gushing out of you with no warning, your body shaking as you held on tight on to the headboard.

Lando leaned down and licked up everything he good, moaning at how good you tasted.

''Think you're ready for me?'' he asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

''Always'' you said, turning around for a quick kiss, also leaning down to give Lando's dick a few quick sucks, leaving as much spit as you could, before settling into position again.

Lando lined himself up, holding onto your waist with one hand as he slowly pushed in.

All air had left your lungs as you held your breath. Feeling him slide through you was unexplainable.

The stretch was sore, so bloody sore, but at the same time, just the though of it being Lando who was filling you up turned you on so much that your brain shut the pain out and replaced it with pleasure.

Once he was fully in, Lando stayed still for a couple of moments, the both of you speechless at the feeling, lost in your own dirty thoughts, until you moved forwards and backwards again.

''Fuck Lando, move, please'' you begged.

''Huh? -Fuck, sorr- sorry. Feels so fucking good i just blanked out for a moment'' he said, voice low and raspy.

He started moving, thrusting in and out of you, while you found you voice again and let out multiple lewd moans.

''Fucking hell, you're so good. So tight. I-I-I''m so lucky'' Lando mumbled.

You felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, your movements slowing so Lando had to take full control now.

''Uh Lando, gonna cum''

''Go on, let it out, that's it baby'' he said, edging you on.

You bit you lip again as you felt your release, washing through your body which felt like jelly as Lando held you up and adored your whole being, praising you to end.

He pulled out completely and handled your body so you were now laying on your back, legs being spread and pushed up by his strong hands before he was thrusting his dick into you again, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it as your nails dug deep into his back muscles, scratching at him, probably drawing blood.

''That's it baby. I know you have more in you'' he said, movements becoming faster and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, the new angle having him hit all the right spots in you as you nibbled on his ear.

Suddenly you were having another orgasm, shaking under him as he slowed his movements for a minute, riding you through the mix of pain and pleasure, and once you'd calmed down bit, he increased his pace again, eagerly hunting his own release now.

''Fuck Lando I can't. Too much'' you said, barely able to talk and keep your eyes open.

''One more baby, one more. Together, yeah?'' he said, knowing that although you were saying that, you probably didn't want him to stop.

''Hmm'' was all you could mumble out as Lando's movements were getting sloppy, his dick twitching against your walls, sending you into another orgasmic bliss, with him following you not long after.

You felt as he shot his cum deep within you, filling you up and painting your walls white and both your bodies were shuddering and shivering, fucked out to the core.

He let his weight fall on you, as he often did after amazing sex, and cuddled you as you held him as tight as you could.

The cool air on your sweaty skin had goosebumps raise on your skin again, your body quivering in his arms as he pulled back and locked lips with yours in a tender and loving kiss. Not rough and fast like most of the time.

''You're freezing, let's get you cleaned up'' he said, making his way to pull out of you.

The loss of contact had Lando groaning, and when you looked down at where you were joined moments ago, you stopped him from walking to the bathroom.

''I-Wait!'' you squealed, pulling him back to you.

''You good?'' he asked.

You didn't answer him though. Instead you leaned down and took his mighty girth into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl all around him, swallowing al the juices that coated his dick, before letting him free again.

''Now I'm good'' you said, smirking at him.

'''Fucking dirty menace'' he said, leaning down to give you one final rough kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up and wearing one of Lando's hoodies that he'd left in your house last time, you both curled into bed, your legs thrown over his as your head rested on his chest.

You were talking about everything and nothing.

At one point, Lando looked down at you, smirking.

''So does this mean I'm your boyfriend?'' he cheekily asked.

You couldn't help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

''Yes, my love. My boyfriend.''

''Well, I love you, my girlfriend''

You breath hitched. Hearing the words you've been wanting to hear the day you first met made your heart swell with butterflies.

You leaned on your elbow as you cupped his face. ''I love you too'' you said, before kissing him, pouring every bit of the love you felt for him into it.

He kissed you back with the same passion, and with that you dozed off, excited for what was to come, now that you were finally together.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #lando smut #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #ln #ln4 #lnfour

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smuthospital · 2 years ago

Text

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

#lemon #non con #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #male yandere #yandere noncon #texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #slashers #fem reader

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

Text

of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb

inspired by this request ! i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.

The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend

"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."

"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"

"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."

You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.

"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."

"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."

Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.

"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"

"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.

As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.

Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.

You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.

"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"

"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"

"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."

"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"

You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.

"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."

"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."

Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.

"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"

"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"

"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."

"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."

"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"

"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."

"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.

"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.

As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.

"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.

"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed

"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."

"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"

"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."

"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."

"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.

"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."

"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."

"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."

"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."

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star-lights-up · 4 months ago

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I'm taking driver's ed and online chemistry right now and let me tell you, they're a goldmine

(click for better quality)

#i don't even know #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quickson #dadneto #magnet family #erik lehnsherr #x men shitpost #my art #daisy's doodles #this one really is a doodle. definition of a doodle.

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grogumaximus · 4 months ago

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Rico Verhoeven open about friendship with 'super busy' Max Verstappen: 'Nice to see'

"I just think it's great," Verhoeven tells Sportnieuws.nl about Formula 1. That's why he's also present at the opening of the F1 Exhibition in Amsterdam. "And of course I have a few friends who drive well, Max and Lando (Norris, ed.). So that's super cool. I'm super proud of them and it's great to see how they perform at the highest level."

"We're just friends. But we're both extremely busy, so unfortunately we don't see each other often enough," says Verhoeven about his bond with Verstappen. "Of course, he flies around the world for a large part of the year and I'm also preparing for races. But where we can, we see each other. Then we meet in Monaco or the Netherlands and then we enjoy ourselves."

Verhoeven doesn't watch every Grand Prix due to his own busy career. "But I do watch the highlights to see how he did." He was very impressed by the Red Bull driver's qualifying round in Japan. The kickboxer doesn't know much about the sport, he admits. Fortunately, he sometimes gets extra explanation from Jos Verstappen, Max's father.

"When I'm at a race and I'm sitting next to Jos, he's going to explain to me what's actually happening." For example, about pit stops and the choice of a tire type. "I think that's cool. There's a whole strategic game involved. Very interesting to see that and learn more about it."

A career change is not in the cards for Rico. There is no way he would fit into an F1 car. "Maybe only with one leg," laughs Verhoeven.

Verhoeven has a remarkable maternity gift for Verstappen: 'I don't know if he will use them'

The top athlete seems to have an extremely special maternity gift in mind. When asked if he is going to give Verstappen a set of small boxing gloves, Verhoeven grins: “Of course, of course. I don't know if he is going to use them, but we are going to give them anyway.”

Although Verhoeven is of course a big fan of Verstappen in the first place, the kickboxer is really enjoying the current title fight, in which Red Bull currently seems to play a supporting role. "Yes, that's what makes it fun, right? when it's exciting, everyone likes to watch. Oh, what's going to happen? When you know in advance who's going to win..."

The 36-year-old top athlete doesn't think that Formula 1 isn't fun, but that the current scenario is just a bit more fun to follow. "It's not necessarily that there's nothing to it, but it's still very impressive. Only now you're just like: Okay, let's see what's going to happen today." Verhoeven still hopes that Verstappen can win the title. "Always hoping for Max of course. But in the end I just want it... Yes, the one who does the best, can win, right."

#new rico/max content!#max verstappen #rico verhoeven

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blorbocedes · 2 months ago

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Nico Rosberg: "I'm finally free"

02/16/2017

The world champion after his retirement. The German who left F1 speaks for the first time:

I'm finally free. Pilots live like hamsters.

MARCO MENSURATI – The Republic

MONTE CARLO - HE GRINDS some Sichuan pepper on the smoked salmon that the waitress at the lounge bar at the Meridien Beach Plaza has just left on the low glass table. Then he stretches. "The fact is that I'm free, finally," he says. And with a pinch he lifts his blue cashmere sweater from his chest. The gesture - anyone who has ever frequented a paddock will have immediately understood - alludes to the "plain clothes" clothing, that is, the absence of team suits. "Free. If I'm here talking to Repubblica it's because I chose to. No one from Mercedes said to me this morning: "Go and talk to that journalist." No. Nico wants to talk, Nico talks.

Let's start with the choice to stop. Three months have passed, are you still convinced you did the right thing? Even more than before. The sacrifice you have to make to win a world championship is monstrous, in physical, personal and relational terms. For goodness sake, it's part of the game. A beautiful game, which I chose myself and which I wanted to play first.

But now that I've won - or, better, now that I've gotten where I wanted to - I can say: thank you all, that's enough. It was a golden opportunity to close my F1 book here, there was also a happy ending. Now I enjoy all the other beautiful things that are out there. Life can't just be going around in circles from morning to night, all year round, in a car. I'm a man, not a hamster!

The comparison between drivers and hamsters is a bit strong. Let's say: beautiful hamsters, rich and living a fantastic life.

But still hamsters. Yes, no offense. Formula 1 has been my life up until now. And I would like to continue to have a role in this sport. But I repeat: there is a whole life to live out there; and if you are a driver you are forced to always and only focus on your own activity, in the car and outside.

When you began your career as a driver, your father set the goals: "Win a race, win in Monte Carlo, win a world championship". The fact that you stopped exactly one second after reaching the goals indicated by your father, saying, "now I am free", provides a particular key to understanding your sporting and human story. Having a dad like mine was difficult, especially at the beginning of my career. Everyone looked at me, asked me about the son of an driver, do you know how many times I heard that? He helped me out of charity, but he was cumbersome: he knew everything about the world I was entering, what I had to do, what the others had to do, what was best and what was worst. It worked well. But then when F1 arrived I realized that something had changed: I needed to make mistakes, to do it my way. So one evening we talked.

Did you argue? We were clear. I really believe in the art of telling things as they are. I think that if we all did it, our lives would be simpler. On one side there was a parent who wanted to make things easier for his son, on the other there was a man who was looking for his own path. How do we move forward in F1?, we said to each other. In the end he stepped aside, and I thank him for the lightness with which he did it. He is an emotional guy (Rosberg is multilingual, his Italian is almost perfect, in this case he meant emotional, but the slip was too significant not to report it - ed.) and he was able to manage the situation in the best possible way and today I can only thank him for having let me do it, I would like him to know that it is only thanks to this that I am now here speaking as a world champion. And I would also like him to know that now I know how much it cost him.

Now you are a father too. What role did your daughter play in the decision to stop? More than my daughter, my family. It's the most important thing I have. And I had to ask them for a huge, unfair effort too. Now I want to focus on them as much as I can and be a better father and husband. Which is something I've already started to do, discovering that fatherhood isn't all that simple. There's very little talk about it, people always say "children are the most beautiful thing in the world" and no one says how complicated it is, especially for a father, to relate to a one-and-a-half-year-old girl. It's beautiful but also tiring and, let's face it, boring at times. You're there with another person with whom you struggle to communicate and inevitably you get bored. Then when you're not there you miss them, and above all you feel guilty because when you were there you were bored. It's part of the relationship, of growth, of the normality that a pilot can hardly aspire to.

Listening to you speak, it seems like you can glimpse behind so much lucidity, a precise path, psychological work... Did you get help from anyone? Yes. One of the keys to my success was the work I did with the mental coach. I had been working on that aspect for a long time, but this year I took new paths, it was more intense.

Isn't it just a fad? Is philosophy a fad? There have been geniuses in the past, Epicurus, Seneca, take your pick, who two thousand years ago already experienced the same problems, the same difficulties as us. Since they were geniuses, they also analyzed and codified them, giving us extraordinary tools to read what happens to us. In life and in sports.

Are you saying that you won the F1 world championship by reading Epicurus? I gave an example. Ten years ago I was jealous of my wife, I felt bad when she looked at someone else. Today I understood that the problem is not her looking at someone else, but me needing to have all her attention, and I have re-modulated my reactions accordingly. And we are all more serene. The point is that when you understand the reasons for your emotions, you adapt your reaction. And you reduce mistakes. It's called self-awareness. You have to work hard on it.

In addition to philosophy, how did you work on it? Meditation. It was the extra weapon this year. An art that you can practice anywhere, walking, running, in bed as soon as you wake up. Let's be clear, it's work, not magic, but if you practice it consistently and seriously, little by little it helps you improve . It helped me: I'm sure that ten years ago, in a situation like the one I found myself in in the last ten laps of Abu Dhabi, the decisive race, with Lewis slowing down in front and me crushed between the two Red Bulls and Vettel... I'm sure I would have crashed. Instead, I was ready. I'm not saying I was calm, in fact I remember that during the overtaking maneuver on Verstappen I saw everything red and I was very tense. But I was there. And I brought it home... Everyone should do it, teach it in school: we live on the edge, always connected, incapable of getting bored or being alone. We accumulate stories and we are less and less lucid . I, even today, the first thing I do every morning is twenty minutes of meditation. Then it was also very important talk. With the coach we talked about everything, including my father and Lewis.

Here, Hamilton. A complicated coexistence, yours. The journalistic stereotyping wanted the Englishman in the role of the talented and invincible champion, you in that of the zealous "underdog." Then you beat him but those stereotypes partly resisted. Have you ever wondered about your talent? Is he more or less than Lewis? I have always believed in myself; but it is obvious that he has a lot.

You did not answer. Because it makes no sense to answer this question. Talent is an elusive concept, which is also tied to that of self-esteem . What is obvious and what I can say calmly is that I do not beat Lewis with talent but with everything that there is in sport beyond talent; if I put myself on the level of "talent against talent" maybe I could do the same as him, but beat him -- no. It took more than that to beat him. I had to work outside the car. Optimize everything, make sure I brought 100 percent of what I had to the track, every time we raced. Or at least more often than he did.

You were very good friends as kids in the karting days. Best friends. A cinematic story. I still remember that night in Greece. We were on vacation together. After dinner, looking at the sea, he said to me: "Can you imagine how wonderful it would be if one day we found ourselves, you and I, at McLaren (the strongest team at the time, ed.) fighting for the title?" I thought about it, of course. It was my dream. I thought it would be the best thing in the world. Then it actually happened and now I can say that maybe it was, even if the friendship suffered. It's always strange when a dream comes true: it's never how you imagined it.

Now he'll continue to be a hamster and you'll do something else. Maybe you can become friends again. Well, now that there's no competition anymore, I hope so. I would like to. We were good together. Many say he is a strange guy, I think he is unique. I know him perfectly, I know how his brain works, I know everything about him.

He recently said he would have liked to see Alonso take his place at Mercedes. As a Formula 1 fan I could not have hoped for anything better, Alonso against Hamilton ten years later, it would have been a unique show. But I understand that the "Bottas solution" makes more sense for Mercedes.

Bottas is said to be saving Vettel's place for 2018. Well, the contract with Ferrari ends this year, for Mercedes it would be a sensible solution: they will certainly talk about it.

Schumacher in 2007, when he was retiring, confessed that he wanted to swim in the ocean with whales: a dream of his that he had never been able to realize because of F1. What is yours? Much more banal: I would like to ski, by contract I couldn't. And then take guitar lessons.

Michael Jordan said in '93 that he was retiring to be free. At most even free to return and start playing basketball again by choice and no longer by inertia. Right, but I don't find myself in it. My story as a Formula 1 driver is over. And I won't reopen it.

#nico rosberg #article #first interview post retirement #talks about being a father with a lot of lucidity #brocedes #nicology

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oneforthemunny · 10 months ago

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🧸🍯🎸 this is mine

for your blurb, rockstar!eddie, fluff, lore/flashback. set during the sneaking around phase, like a month before the engagement for timeline purposes.

"You're going back to the hotel room?" Jeff gawked, mouth nearly dropping at the words he was sure he was hallucinating.

"Yeah," Eddie flicked the lighter, bringing it to his usual post show joint. "Not really feelin' it."

"Not- Ed, we're in Amsterdam." Jeff scoffed.

"And?"

"You fuckin' love Amsterdam." Jeff blinked in awe, partial confusion.

"Yeah, I used to. Kinda boring now. Seen it, done it, need somethin' more exciting than hookers and weed." Eddie shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, his hands twitching with irritation, anxious to get into the car and back to the hotel.

"Lemme know if it's somethin' good, though. Maybe I'll stop by later." Ducking into the black car, Eddie nodded at the rest of his bandmates, shutting the door quickly.

His knee bounced the entire car ride, all seven minutes of it, ringed fingers tapping on the edge of his torn jeans. The car had barely slowed to a stop before Eddie was out, throwing a wad of Euros his tour manager had given him towards the driver, practically sprinting towards the private elevator entrance.

"Hey, uh, you don't happen to know what time it is in Los Angeles right now, do you?" Eddie turned towards the hotel manager accompanying him on the ride to the penthouse.

"No, sir, but I can get the front desk to call and-"

"-That's alright. Thank you." Eddie nodded, stepping towards the door before it opened, sliding through the opening gap.

"Looks great!" He turned, giving a half grin and a thumbs up, jamming the key into the lock.

"Uh, if you need anything, Mr. Munson-"

"-I won't even hesitate to let you know. I promise." Eddie cut off the nervous hotel manager, too familiar with the schtick- too many hotel rooms, all saying the same thing. Normally, he'd be less pushy and in a rush, on his best behavior with the staff because- "Fuck it, they're just doing their job. Why would I be an asshole about it?"

But tonight, he had bigger plans. He'd timed the closing number just right, no off topic rants or mid song chaos like usual- his tour manager should be thankful. No, he'd timed it all perfectly, striding over to the phone, dialing out for an international number.

The phone rang once, twice- Eddie's leg hadn't stopped bouncing until,

"I thought you said you'd call me at four." The familiar playful purr in your tone had his heart skipping, a nearly boyish grin spreading across his face. "It's almost five, here."

"I'm sorry, baby. Had to wrap a few things up at the venue. Didn't plan on it being late." Eddie cradled the phone to his ear, leaning back on the pristine bed. "What are you up to?"

"Hm, about to go out to dinner with a few friends." You sighed, nearly bored, like your heart wasn't fluttering the same way his was.

"Friends? Any I should be worried about?" Eddie's voice dropped, a low gravel in his tone that made heat rush through your veins.

"I think I should be asking you that, rockstar." You teased back. "You're the one in Amsterdam, and who called me late. Too busy with the hookers?"

"Psh, you caught me." Eddie snorted sarcastically. "Got one here with me right now if you wanna talk to her."

"You better not." Your tone clipped, teetering away from playful and towards possessive. "I'd hate to have to catch a flight down there."

"Well, in that case..." Eddie teased, rolling over on the bed, the phone chord stretching with him.

"Eddie,"

"'M just messin' with you. No hookers here. Just me." Eddie muttered, the silence of the room falling around him. "Wouldn't be mad if you did catch a flight, though. I've missed you, baby."

Your cheeks pricked with excited heat, swaying with the phone pressed to your ear. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I've missed you too." You whispered, like it was a secret. Maybe it was, to everyone else. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Smokin'." Eddie hummed, patting his bedside table, looking for the pre-rolled joints he'd requested. "Sleepin'."

"That doesn't sound like much fun." Eddie could practically hear your pout through the phone.

"Eh, it's not bad. A little lonely though." Eddie sighed. "Wish I had someone here with me to keep me company."

"You better be talking about me, Munson." You clipped.

Eddie grinned, a huff of laughter floating though the other end. "You know I'm talking about you. Everyone else is boring t'me now, baby. You ruined them, ruined me."

You bit back a giggle, lips curing in a grin. "Where's your next stop?"

"Uh, Berlin." Eddie muttered. "Leave tomorrow."

"Maybe... Maybe I'll stop in and see you." Your heart skipped when you suggested it. "Maybe we can go back to that cafe."

"You're too good to me." Eddie grinned, lazy and silly. "I'll pick you up at the airport."

"No, just send a car-"

"-I'll pick you up." Eddie insisted. "Don't worry, baby, I'll keep it hush-hush. Very low profile." He could practically hear your smile. "I don't wanna keep you from your friends tonight, so I'll get off the-"

"-You're not." You shook your head. "But I should probably go before Farrah kills me... and I need to call Jaques and let him know I'll need the plane tomorrow."

"I can't wait to see you." Eddie grinned into the receiver.

"You too." You squeaked, a giggly blush practically spilling through the phone. "I'll call you with the times."

"Alright, sweetheart. Have fun tonight. I'll see you soon." Eddie paused, his tongue running over his bottom lip. "Love you, baby."

"I love you." You sighed sweetly. "Don't party too hard. I'll see you tomorrow."

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augustjustice · 4 days ago

Text

you wanna feel how it feels (let's exchange the experience) 8/?

start here | Part 7 | AO3

Rating: E (overall; T for this section) | 5.4k for this part of the chapter

Tags: Bodyswap, Friends to Lovers, Slowburn, Getting to Know Each Other, Disabled Eddie Munson, Disabled Steve Harrington, Class Differences, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Ableism, Jealousy

Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they’re never quite sure what the other is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other��s shoes can lend them some much needed insight.

Notes: The boys debrief after meeting up with Nancy. Then, Eddie heads back to Harrington Manor for the night.

Continued conversations around ableism unfold here, and Steve definitely struggles with some negative self-talk.

“So…” Eddie elongated the syllable in his mouth, “you wanna talk about what happened, back there?”

Steve's hands adjusted around the steering wheel, suddenly white knuckling it, and the tenseness in his jaw was visible even in the low lighting.

Despite the fact that they’d ended on a seeming high note–even if Nancy had shot them some odd looks, each time they cheered when “Steve” got a question right–after everything that went down at the study session, Eddie had been more than willing to let Steve win their prior argument and get back into the driver’s seat of his baby.

…Once Nancy’s station wagon was well out of the parking lot, of course, red lights disappearing into the darkness. They ought to be safe, especially now that they had the cover of night to conceal them from any other prying eyes.

So they were clipping right along back to the trailer park, Steve putting the pedal to the metal. His driving wasn’t anywhere near as wild and erratic as Eddie’s usually was, but it was still fast enough to suggest he definitely needed this after the day they’d had.

Huffing out a breath, Steve gave a shrug, playing it casual despite the stiffness that lingered in his shoulders. “I mean, not really. What exactly is there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, dude. Shit just got…kinda intense, for a second.” Understatement of the century, but Eddie was doing his best to keep things light, especially when Steve already looked like this conversation was making him want to jump out of Eddie’s skin. “So…whaddya say you give it to me straight, Harrington–”

Steve snorted, cutting him off. “I thought I already made that totally clear, Eds. I can give it to you anyway but straight.”

“The man’s got jokes!” Eddie crowed, glad for the cover of night, dark enough to hide the flare on his cheeks at the innuendo. “But seriously, dude. What was up with you and Wheeler? She really didn’t know about your whole…reading thing?”

Steve sighed, long and dramatic, as he raked a hand up into Eddie’s curls. “I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. Everybody already knows I'm an idiot, man. A day with the kids should have taught you that. What would be the point of, like, getting into all the nitty gritty details?”

“That! That’s part of the problem!” Eddie jabbed an accusing finger in Steve’s direction. “Jesus H. Christ, Stevie! Did you miss everything I said earlier? You're not an idiot, okay, dude? And I'm gonna keep saying it until it finally penetrates your stubborn, thick skull to that brilliant, beautiful brain of yours.”

“You know, technically, you're the one with the thick skull now.” Master of deflection, Steve reached over and gently rapped at the side of Eddie's head.

“Well, what can I say? It suits me. Ask my uncle, I’m plenty stubborn too. Once I find a mystery that needs solving, I’m as bad as the Scooby Doo gang–can’t put it down until the case is closed. Like why exactly you never said anything before. To Wheeler, I mean.”

Or me, he didn’t add. Worry still clawed at him, though, that Steve didn’t trust his friends enough to share certain parts of himself.

Did he really think that Eddie of all people would have made fun of him? Because there was no way.

Steve shook his head, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t believe that for a second, dude. You’re such a total Shaggy.”

Eddie clutched a hand to his chest, offended. “Excuse me, good sir, I think you’ll find that you’re the Shaggy now. Got the hair for it and everything. I, on the other hand…am our fearsome and noble leader Fred.” Flipping down the sun visor, he took in Steve’s reflection in the dim light, making a show of adjusting the polo he was wearing. “Honestly, man, picture it. This preppy ass outfit of yours is practically begging for an ascot.”

Steve gave him a light shove, not quite able to keep the laughter out of his voice. “I swear to god, Munson, if you put me in an ascot, I’m chopping off all your hair.”

“I’ll happily call that bluff, Stevie. I know you love me for my beautiful locks.”

Since he couldn’t fluff his hair in a show of exaggerated vanity, as he normally would have, Eddie settled for giving a strand of it a teasing tug.

“Watch it, dude! You’re gonna damage it,” Steve complained, not exactly beating Eddie’s allegations that he cared. “And, you know, if you’d really let me get my hands on it, then what you just said might even be true.”

“You wound me, good sir. So what, in order to love it, you gotta give my hair the ole Farrah Fawcett treatment? Not sure how that’s gonna play in front of Corroded Coffin’s two whole fans. I’m going for something that’s a lot less Fabio and a lot more Eddie van Halen.”

“If you say so,” Steve said skeptically, pulling out a frizzy curl to give it a judgmental once over.

“You are such an ass, man!”

Steve only giggled, pleased with himself.

The banter had settled something between them, as it always did. The atmosphere in the car was easy again, enough so Eddie took the risk and said, “Honestly, though…she seemed pretty cool with it.”

He swallowed a little thickly, trying to tamp down on the feelings of jealousy that stirred at the memory. The way the air between Nancy and Steve had seemed to shrink, crackling with intensity, and the soft looks Steve kept shooting her after she’d apologized. Unfortunately, the image was basically seared into Eddie’s brain, now.

At Steve’s puzzled look, he added, “Wheeler. When she found out about the…dyslexia.”

Eddie was careful with the pronunciation, the word foreign on his tongue.

Steve let out a huff. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“No way in hell, man. I’m like a dog with a bone.”

“Is it really such a crime that I didn't want my ex-girlfriend knowing just how much of a dumbass I really was?” Steve asked, exasperated.

He hadn’t snapped, not exactly, but the harshness in his tone made Eddie flinch anyway.

“‘Course it’s not,” he said hurriedly. “Sorry.”

The apology was weak, and Eddie knew that the uneasy silence that lapsed after it was his fault. He just wasn’t sure how to make up for it.

But before he even got a chance to try, Steve murmured, so quiet he almost missed it, “‘You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.’”

The words were like a slap to the face. Eddie had already known that he’d fight anyone, including Steve himself, who had the audacity to make that kind of comment, but even he was a little surprised at how instantly ready and raring to go he was.

“Shit, man, what did I just get done sa–”

“No, not–I wasn’t calling myself that, okay? It’s–Nancy used to say that. To me, back when we were together. It was like a fond thing? Like a joke, you know, between the two of us. I guess I just…didn’t want her to think that for real.” He added, in a low undertone, “Not anymore than she already did.”

“...Oh,” Eddie breathed in, fingers tapping a restless staccato on the passenger side door. “So…you never told her.”

“Nope,” Steve popped the ‘p.’ “Or anybody, really. After they found out, my dad really didn’t want me to talk about it. How would it look, right, to his business partners, to hear he had a complete moron for a son?” Steve laughed bitterly. “I mean, Tommy and Carol kind of knew, probably. And Robin, of course, cuz there’s nothing I can get past her. But…nobody else.”

“‘Cept for me and Wheeler, now,” Eddie amended, inclining his head. “Confidantes by necessity.”

“Right,” Steve sucked in a breath, rubbing an anxious finger at his upper lip. “I really wasn’t trying to keep it from you, dude. I literally just…forgot.”

“Nah, man, I know,” Eddie rushed to assure him, regretting that he’d needled him so hard. He hadn’t meant to make Steve feel guilty, since he had no reason to.

Maybe a selfish part of him had wanted the assurance he hadn’t done anything wrong. But, more than anything, he’d just wanted Steve to open up. Eddie knew how bad he was about bottling shit up, if given half a chance.

“No question. Plus, it’s not like you owe it to anybody, to tell them if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one having to put up with it, now. I’m sorry about that, too. You know, that you got saddled with my…” Steve made a helpless gesture at his head, “messed up brain.”

Eddie let out a pained noise. “Shit, Stevie, don’t do that. There’s nothing to apologize for, ya hear me?” he adopted his best no-nonsense tone, the one he’d learned from Wayne. “Besides, I should be saying the same thing to you. After all, you’re stuck with mine.”

“Okay, well, but there’s nothing wrong with your–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie waggled a finger at him, cutting off his protests. “Third year senior, remember? I’ve long been said to have a few screws loose.” Though his tone was light, joking, he couldn’t help but murmur, more seriously, “Christ, trust me, it can be kind of a nightmare up there, sometimes. And that was before all the Upside Down related shit.”

“They were bullshit,” Steve said, the word carrying weight, conviction. At Eddie’s questioning look, he added, “Anybody who ever said there was something wrong with you. Total losers.” He spit the title, Steve harnessing all his high school mean girl energy as he often did now–in the name of good.

“And so was your dad, big guy, and our shitty high school teachers, and whoever the fuck else made you feel that way. I meant what I said before. To Wheeler? I get what it’s like, man. But you’re the farthest thing from stupid. It’d actually almost be kind of funny, that people treated you that way, if it wasn’t so goddamn infuriating.”

Panting from how worked up he’d gotten from his impromptu speech, Eddie slapped his hands against the glove box once, twice. Not hard–he didn’t want to hurt Steve’s hands or his car–but just enough to get the pent up energy, the fury of it, out.

Lip caught between his teeth, Steve shot Eddie a quick glance. He braced for it–the reprimand, Steve to tell him off for being reckless, meet Eddie’s anger with some outrage of his own.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, he waved a hand back and forth between them.

“This whole bizarro Freaky Friday thing. Sure, it’s been weird as shit, but…” Steve shrugged, clearing his throat before redirecting his gaze to the road, “at least it’s you. You know?”

Eddie blinked in confusion, feeling like he’d lost a step somewhere.

“I’m, uh…gonna need you to elaborate on that one for me, Harrington.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t know if I could handle it, if this happened with anybody else.”

As touched as he felt at the sentiment, Eddie couldn’t help but scoff. “Get real, Stevie. You and Buck are so joined at the hip, I bet money you’d both just go merrily on like nothing had even happened.”

The Beemer came to a full stop, and Eddie realized, magically, they had somehow made it back to the trailer park in one piece. He hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in the conversation to register the familiar surroundings flashing by.

Though Steve put the car in park, neither of them made a move to get out.

Cocking his head, he hummed in clear contemplation.

“Sure, okay. Robin, maybe. In theory, except I'm really not sure either one of us is prepared to have each other's…junk." Steve made a face at the thought.

Eddie let out a short, amused bark of laughter. "We've got each other's junk right now, dude.”

"Well, yeah, okay, but at least we've both still got…dicks, you know?"

"Oh, I'm aware,” Eddie muttered.

How could he not be, after that shower earlier?

"Look, I’m just saying…can you imagine a suddenly 19 year old Dustin?” Steve said, drawing Eddie abruptly out of the x-rated memories that threatened to flash across his mind. His eyes went so wide with horror, it bordered on comical–Eddie definitely got it, now, why the guys sometimes called him ‘bug-eyed.’ “He'd be a goddamn menace. I'd never get the Beemer back in one piece."

Eddie flashed a grin. "Can't argue with you there. You'll be lucky to get it back in one piece as it is, with me behind the wheel."

Steve's lips turned down in a frown, looking petulant. It was becoming less weird by the second, seeing Steve's sour pout on his own face. Instead it was mostly just…cute.

“Like hell I’m letting you drive my car again, Munson,” Steve said, nudging his shoulder into Eddie’s as he picked up the old argument again.

It should have been tired by now, but instead it just felt…easy. Warm and comfortable, like pulling on one of the worn flannels Eddie had stolen the first year he’d started living with Wayne, the ones he still refused to give back.

“That right, big boy? Well, then, how the hell do you propose I get back to Casa de Harrington for the night?”

They’d already agreed that recreating the situation as the first time they switched seemed like their best bet for switching back. Eddie might have struggled through each and every science class Hawkins High required, but even he’d absorbed enough to understand that was how experiments worked–if you wanted to replicate the results, you had to keep running the test the exact same way again and again.

Steve shrugged, unbothered. “You can walk.”

“That’s miles away, Harrington! You’d really just abandon your good pal Eddie, leave me out here to die?”

Even in the darkness, Eddie could see the slight twinkle in Steve’s eye. “Don’t worry about it, Eds. I work out. You’ll be completely, 100% fine.”

“Can’t believe you're willing to let me take your body for such a reckless ass spin but not your car,” Eddie shook his head, Steve’s shorter hair tickling the back of his neck. “Such priorities you’ve got, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t really have much of a choice on that first one, now do I?” When he caught Eddie’s eyes again, his expression became open, sincere in that way Steve had that always struck him down to his core. “But, I’m serious. I’m really glad it’s you.”

Unable to pull a strand of hair over his face, Eddie settled for ducking his head to hide his shy, pleased smile.

“Me too, Stevie. Nobody I’d rather be stuck with.”

Reaching over, Steve settled a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, giving him one of those tight, reassuring squeezes. Eddie couldn’t help but lean into the touch, soaking in the warmth of the moment.

…That was, at least, until the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” wafted into the air from whatever pop station Steve always had his car radio tuned to, shattering it.

Eddie wrinkled his nose before shooting Steve a shit-eating grin. “...Even if your music does absolutely suck.”

“Munson, I swear to God…” Steve groaned.

But then, not even a beat later, his face broke into a wide smile, showing off Eddie’s teeth and dimples. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye.

Eddie didn’t care for that look, not one iota.

“Uhhh, dude? What’re you do–?”

Hand darting out to grab the knob, Steve turned the song up to full blast. Then, he opened his mouth, and, to Eddie’s horror, crooned out an Ooh.

“No, no, no! Goddamnit, Harrington, don’t you dare!” he cried out.

…To no avail, as Steve was already belting out the first lines of the song at the top of his lungs.

Eddie practically vaulted over the gear shift to try and stop him. But Steve just shoved open the car door and raced out into the Munsons’ front yard, too fast for him.

“Hey, just consider this payback for the Scoops uniform, jerkwad!” he called back over his shoulder, laughing in the face of Eddie’s scowl.

In his haste to follow, Eddie all but fell out of the driver’s side door, scrambling around the Beemer to go after him.

“Diggin’ the dancing queen!” Steve sang, giving a dorky little shimmy to go along with it. Right out in the open, where there could be witnesses. “Oh, wow. You really do sound, like, super good, dude.”

Eddie harrumphed, momentarily offended. “Yeah, well, you don’t gotta seem so surprised, man. I’m a professional, after all. Although I’d sound a helluva lot better if you’d sing something decent like–like Dio, or Ozzy, or, fuck, Judas Priest! Have mercy, Stevie, anything but ABBA.”

As he should have predicted, his comment only made Steve raise his voice even more, loud and proud as the next line rang out into the night sky.

In retaliation, Eddie shouted out the opening lyrics of Mötley Crüe’s “Come On and Dance” to try and drown him out, sticking his tongue out and banging his head in time.

“When she's hot, well, damn she's hot! Electric love like Sandra Dee!”

And…what the hell? Steve sounded fucking bad ass, he absolutely had the vocal range for metal.

But before he could test said range further, Steve pulled him out of his reverie.

“Not gonna work, Eds!” he shook his head, amused. “Like I give a shit who hears me singing your metal crap.”

“Metal crap! Metal crap, he says! Oh, it is so on, Harrington!”

Thankful once again for the boost of Steve’s added speed, Eddie zipped straight towards him and caught him around the waist. Mindful of his own body’s injuries, he wrapped Steve in what was basically a big bear hug, clapping a wide palm over his mouth to silence him.

Muffled sounds issued from behind his hand, Steve doing his best to keep singing. He wriggled in Eddie’s arms, working to free himself, but to no avail.

“Well, well, well, still not so easy, is it?” Eddie taunted, wiggling his eyebrows triumphantly. “Going up against those jock muscles of yours?”

Steve scowled at him, eyes narrowing.

Then, Eddie felt a warm, wet stripe drag over his skin as Steve licked his hand.

He dropped his grip, more startled than anything.

“What the fuck, dude?!” Eddie demanded, wiping the moisture off on Steve’s light rinse jeans. “You’re the one that went on and on about how gross spit was! Just where the hell are those prim and proper royal manners now?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed, pleased as punch with himself.

“I mean, sure, it absolutely is, but it’s your spit on your hand. I don’t have to put up with it.”

Twirling away from Eddie, he started right back up again.

“You come to look for a king. Anybody could be that guyyy.”

“Yeah, uh, not just anybody.” Accepting defeat, Eddie settled for snarky commentary. “Pretty sure we can safely say that’s you, Harrington.”

Ignoring him, Steve surprised Eddie all over again by extending a hand to him.

“Eddie,” he needled, batting his eyelashes. Eddie would have said it was a move worthy of him at his most ridiculous–but Steve had pulled the same thing on him before, too, usually with resounding success.

It shouldn’t have still been as effective as it was, considering Steve was peering back at him out of Eddie’s own big, brown eyes.

“Come on, man, don’t be a buzzkill,” Steve jutted out his bottom lip, coupling the puppy dog eyes with a devastating pout. “Dance with me.”

…But it was looking more and more like Eddie remained a total sucker for Steve Harrington, in any and all shapes and guises.

“Somebody’s gonna see us out here, Stevie,” Eddie protested reluctantly.

“So what?” Steve wriggled his shoulders. “Oh, right, I totally forgot, gotta protect your reputation as the biggest, baddest metalhead in town. Seriously, Eds, I thought we put that dumb high school shit behind us.”

He seemed completely unconcerned with his own reputation, what someone might think if they caught “him” dancing with Eddie Munson, local outcast and known freak.

And, in the face of that, how could Eddie really argue?

He sighed, hanging his head, making an exaggerated show of his defeat.

“Well, fuck, man, when you put it that way–”

Steve let out a whoop of triumph. “Score one for Harrington! I knew you’d see it my way.”

Eddie held up a finger. “Let the record show I'm doing this under extreme duress.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get over here, Munson.”

Steve mimed throwing a lasso and looping it around Eddie, reeling him in. After acting out a brief “struggle,” Eddie went, grinning all the way.

As soon as he was in range, Steve grabbed both his hands, pulling him close. Eddie matched his silly dance move for move, twisting his shoulders and shaking his hips.

Which that, at least, probably made for quite the show. Eddie was a little sorry he was missing it.

But Steve’s expression, happy and light and carefree, was even better. So good, in fact, the entire town of Hawkins could have been out on the lawn watching them, and Eddie couldn’t have held on to an ounce of annoyance or embarrassment, even if he tried.

“You are the dancing queen!” Steve shouted, pointing a finger right at Eddie.

“Uh, pretty sure you’re the only royalty I see around these parts, Stevie.”

“Come on, man, you already said I was the king. That means you’ve gotta be my queen, yeah?”

Eddie flushed, stomach swooping as Steve spun them around in the grass.

“Well, shit, we are a couple of queens,” he conceded. “Nailed that part, at least.”

“That’s the spirit!” The enthusiasm with which Steve agreed–something that would have been a complete impossibility for him to fathom only a few hours before–warmed Eddie to his core. “Damn right we are.”

They swayed together, Steve still singing along with every word. And for just a moment, Eddie pictured what it might be like to finally make it to one of those gay clubs he’d heard whisper of up in Indy. Imagined the way sweat would drip off his body under the strobing lights as he lost himself in the music, Steve at his side.

So, swept up as he was, the next time Steve bellowed out the chorus, movements buoyant and excitement infectious…Eddie joined him.

“You are the dancing queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen!”

And though he would have only admitted that he’d sang along to the end under threat of death, the way Steve’s smile lit up, bright and shining as any star, honestly made the whole thing worth it.

As they made their final circle, the last chords fading out, Eddie couldn’t help but say, “You know, sweet seventeen Steve Harrington wasn’t this much of a goofball. At least, not from what I remember.”

“Oh, he so was, trust me. You just didn’t know him. And…well,” Steve shrugged his shoulders, sheepish, “he also hid it a lot better, back then. At least in public.”

“Ah. Doing his best to protect his own precious reputation, keep that crown firmly in place, was he?” Eddie said knowingly. “But, you know…kinda wish we had gotten to know each other, during those bygone school days. Probably would have done us both a world of good.”

Steve grimaced. “No way, man, you so don’t. Seriously, I was such an asshole.”

“I mean, you didn’t exactly keep the best company, I’ll give you that. But…nah. Like I told the kids, you weren’t all that bad.” He shook his head, eyes glazing as he took a not at all pleasant stroll down memory lane. “Jesus Christ, you were an absolute peach next to Hargrove and Hagan.”

Steve’s face screwed up, sour like he had sucked on a lemon. “Not exactly a high bar.”

“Better than most, trust me. I’m just saying, sorry we didn’t get our shit together sooner. To think, I could’ve gotten to see the prom king’s dorky ass moves ages ago! For shame!” Eddie teased. Then, he dropped into a dramatic bow. “So thank you for gracing me with a dance now, kind sir.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. “Thank you. I mean, after all, it’s only cuz you quit being such a ginormous stick-in-the-mud that I got to.”

“Well, shit, what can I say? Even the jester himself,” Eddie gestured to himself with a flourishing hand, “has to be reminded to get off his high horse sometimes.”

“Thought we both already agreed you’re my queen, Eds,” Steve said, settling a hand on the small of Eddie’s back and keeping it there as he guided him back towards the car. The weight of it, steady and warm through the material of Steve’s polo, sent a pleased tingle running up Eddie’s spine.

As he slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, Steve crossed his arms and leaned onto the open window.

“And hey, man, who knows? We’ll probably wake up tomorrow, and everything will be hunky dorky again.” He held up his hand, fingers curled into an ‘ok’ sign.

Eddie refused to ask how many times that had actually happened in this town.

Instead, he chuckled. “Honestly, you’re such a dork, Harrington. I can’t believe people used to go on and on about how damn cool you were.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved a dismissive hand at him, then gave the car one final pat as he stood up. “Don’t wreck my car, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Harrington.”

“I mean it. Just get home in one piece, alright?”

“Roger that, dad,” Eddie taunted mercilessly.

Steve pursed his lips into that catty, annoyed look Eddie was so fond of and flipped him the bird. Eddie only cackled in response.

“I’m not kidding, asshole! Everything better be in tip-top shape when I wake up tomorrow morning. Not a speck of dust on the paint job or a hair out of place, got it?”

Even amongst his nagging, Eddie could appreciate Steve’s attempt at eternal optimism.

With a mocking salute, he called back, “Aye-aye, sailor! I have my orders.”

He waited as Steve, ever the jock, jogged up the front porch steps, making sure he got the trailer door open with the key Eddie had singled out for him. When Steve wiggled his fingers in a final, exasperated wave goodnight, Eddie revved the engine once, just to rile him up.

Then, he was off.

—

At night, Harrington Manor stood quiet.

The whole neighborhood did, really, those eerie little identikit Stepford houses dark and silent. Even just shutting the door to the Beemer a tiny bit too hard had Eddie worried the housewife across the street might call in a noise complaint on him.

He couldn’t help but wonder how Steve had pulled it off, all those years of house parties, without Hopper immediately turning up to break things up.

As he entered the house, unease crept up Eddie’s spine, lingering with him as he started towards the stairs that led to Steve’s bedroom.

It wasn’t the horror movie kind, like something was watching, out to get you. After his run-in with the Upside Down, Eddie was intimately aware of how that particular brand of discomfort felt.

No, this was more the itchy sensation that came with visiting a distant relative you only knew through stories. Long gone was the sense, from earlier in the day, that Eddie shouldn’t still be counted as a guest in the Harrington house.

He felt like a guest, now. Or, even worse–an intruder.

Because, apart from when he’d woken up that morning, Eddie had never been in Steve’s house without the man himself around. It felt wrong, to be here when he wasn’t.

The whole ‘alone�� thing wasn’t even what really bothered Eddie about it, at least not completely. Honestly, that was familiar enough. Wayne worked third shift at the plant, after all, so he’d spent many a night by himself.

But, even when he wasn’t home, his uncle’s presence lingered at the trailer, in every trucker cap and souvenir mug lining the walls.

So, no, being alone wasn’t what left Eddie’s chest aching, had him missing Steve fiercely despite the fact they’d spent the entire day together. It was just how lonely the empty Harrington mansion felt.

Because if the Harringtons’ signature touch was here, Eddie couldn’t tell it.

Surely Steve’s mom had had a hand in decorating the place? But every space felt more like a showroom you’d see in the glossy pages of a magazine than a home, each item in its place, tidily tucked away.

Most of the furniture, expensive though it might have been, looked uncomfortable and barely used, further evidence that Eddie’s hunch was right. Only the couch in the den showed any signs of wear and tear, the result of many a movie night Steve had hosted for the party, as Eddie now knew from experience. Abstract paintings lined the white walls along the staircase as he climbed it, not a single photo of gap-toothed baby Steve to be seen.

Seventeen year old Eddie had often wondered, in moments he'd been anything but proud of, what it might be like to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

He’d never pictured it’d be anything like this, drifting through the halls of a so-called ‘resplendent’ palace and finding it cold and empty.

Sure, for his own sake, he was glad that the wayward Harrington parents weren’t here–had no idea how he’d manage to fake it if they had been. But…how the hell must Steve feel, spending night after night in their gaping absence?

After the suffocatingly still hallway, even Steve’s room felt like a breath of fresh air. Finally, Eddie was in one of the only spots in the whole place where there were signs of life, limited though they might be. The terrible matching plaid wallpaper and single poster aside, a few of Steve’s sports trophies on display, alongside a wayward bowling pin, and he did have personal pictures framed on his desk and bedside table.

Eddie’s eyes ran over them eagerly. Dustin, all decked out for one of the middle school dances, hair done up in a Harrington-approved ‘do. Max, on her skateboard in front of the Byers’ place, Lucas and El off on the sidelines happily cheering her tricks on. Steve and Robin, perched on the Scoops Ahoy counter, making faces at the camera. There were even a few shots of Eddie, sprinkled in amongst them.

Silly as it might have seemed, just seeing those familiar faces smiling up at him was a comfort, after the blank drabness of the rest of the house.

He hoped it offered the same relief to Steve, on nights he found himself up here on his own.

To try and drown out the echoing silence, Eddie turned on Steve’s stereo. Hell, he’d welcome ABBA at this point, anything to disrupt the gnawing feeling of solitude.

When the opening chords of Dio’s “Rainbow in the Dark”–the third track on the mixtape he’d made for Steve–filled the air, he did a double take. Eddie started humming along as he went to Steve’s dresser, mouth curving helplessly into a giddy smile.

Rifling through the pajama drawer, he grabbed a pair of Steve’s Hawkins High Athletics sweatpants and one of his own Judas Priest’s tees, left behind after many a night spent staying over. Steve might have slept shirtless usually, but there was no way in hell if he tried that, Eddie would last til morning with his sanity still intact. And while he certainly wasn’t opposed to wearing something more prototypically Steve, like the swim team or Wham! T-shirt he spotted–both well worn and soft as hell, enough so Eddie had gone for them himself countless times in the past–a part of him delighted in imagining Steve waking up the next morning wearing his shirt.

Which, with any luck, he would.

Eddie drifted off surrounded, as he had been all day, with that strange, intoxicating mix of Steve and him together–Ozzy Osborne playing lowly in the background, the scent of expensive detergent and fancy shampoo all around him.

His last thoughts were the hope–wish, really–that tomorrow, they’d be able to look back on this whole thing and laugh. Munson and Harrington, rolling Nat 20 once more on a wild and whacky but, for once, mostly harmless trial in Hawkins, Indiana.

—

For the second morning in a row, Steve woke up in Eddie Munson's bed.

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#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie bodyswap au #bodyswap au #tw: ableism #internalized and external; period-typical #my writing #my stuff #my things

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