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corroded-hellfire · 1 month ago

Note

Eddie and AYW Reader making out on the couch and basically dry humping until he comes in his jeans. That’s the request.

I can’t believe that this is the 100th AYW story. That is so wild to me. Thank you all for still reading, never mind reading it to begin with! Y’all are the best 🥰

Warnings: not quite smut but it toes the line. Eddie creams his jeans, dry humping

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A rumbling sigh slips through Eddie’s lips as he shuts the front door behind him. It felt like work was eighty hours long today instead of eight. Between reconstructing an engine and snippets of his steamy dream about you last night coming back to him, each second that ticked by was torturously stretched out.

He kicks his boots off just as the fast pitter-patter of little feet approaches him.

“Daddy!” Luke squeals.

“Hey, buddy!” Eddie scoops his youngest up and rests him on his hip. “How was school today?”

“Good,” Luke replies, absentmindedly playing with a section of hair that had fallen out of the bun at the nape of Eddie’s neck. “D’you know hockey pucks used to be made with cow poop?”

Eddie’s mouth pops open, mind trying to process his son’s words and a possible response.

“I—uh… No. No, I did not. That’s what you learned at school today, huh?”

“Yep.” The little boy wriggles so Eddie plops him back down on his feet.

“Tax dollars well spent,” Eddie mumbles to himself as he follows his mini-me into the kitchen.

Inside, Ryan is sliding his homework folder back into his backpack. You’re bent over, searching for something in the fridge, and Eddie’s body has an immediate response to you in that position. That might just be the one position the two of you weren’t in in his dream last night.

“Hi, Daddy!” Ryan calls as he zips up his backpack.

“Hey, pal.” Eddie ruffles his golden-brown hair before coming up behind you and accidentally bumping his hip up against your ass.

Heat rushes to your cheeks despite the waves of cold wafting over your face from the refrigerator. Coming to the conclusion that Luke must have finished his last Yoo-Hoo and therefore can’t have the one that he asked you for, you stand up straight and spin to meet Eddie’s gaze. The way his eyes glint with mischief as he tries his hardest to suppress a smirk does nothing to calm your body down. Every damn look this man gives you is a turn on.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, only a hint of laughter creeping into his voice. “Didn’t see you there.”

You step forward and let the refrigerator door fall closed behind you.

“Uh huh,” you hum, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie can’t hold his chuckle back any longer and moves so he’s leaning back against the counter. Simply being in his personal space feels too charged, so you force yourself to walk over to the kitchen table and run a hand over Ryan’s hair.

“That was all your homework?” you ask.

“Yup!”

“Good job.”

“Can we please play a game now?” Luke runs his hands down his face, letting his fingers tug down his bottom eyelids, revealing the vibrant red on the other side of the skin.

“Yes, I know, I promised you a game.” You boop his nose as he shuffles past you, gait reminiscent of a zombie.

The little boy continues forward until he bumps into his father’s tall frame.

“Can we play Twister?” Luke asks as he grabs Eddie’s left hand, spinning a chunky silver ring around his middle finger.

“Daddy can spin the thing, and we can get all tangled up on the mat!’ Ryan grins, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The mental image of you bending in different positions right in front of him is more than poor frazzled Eddie can handle. He clears his throat and rubs his free hand along his stubbled jaw.

“Um, how about this…” Eddie trails off, mind racing since he doesn’t have a decent alternative already thought up. “Uh, oh! Okay. How about you guys go take your baths right now? That way we can play a game when you’re done.” And God does Eddie hope they want a different game by then. “That way you already have your baths done for the night so we can watch two movies before bed.”

“Two?!” Eddie thinks Luke’s eyes are going to pop out of his head as he stares up at him.

“Mhmm.” Eddie gently shakes the hand that Luke’s still holding onto. “Each of you can pick one.”

Luke widens his eyes and rocks back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet.

“Can I pick a PG movie?” A small, cute pucker grows on his lips as he attempts to sway his father with his adorableness.

Eddie cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

“Depends on the movie. But maybe.”

“Yes!”

It’s all Luke needs to hear before running out of the kitchen, down the hall towards the bathroom.

“Can I pick the first movie?” Ryan asks once his little brother is gone.

“Sure thing, pal.” Eddie nods. “Go ahead, go take your bath.”

After both of the boys have vacated the kitchen, you saunter over to Eddie and slide your hands up his coverall-clad chest. Your forefinger traces the letters of his name on his left breast pocket.

“So, not a fan of Twister?” You tilt your head up and bat your eyelashes as innocently as you can manage.

“Maybe too much of a fan when you’re involved.”

Eddie slides one arm around your waist and pulls your body flush up against his. The way your thigh presses up against his crotch allows you to feel that he’s already half hard. The friction makes Eddie release a small groan as you give a tiny gasp in surprise.

“What’s got you worked up?” you ask, no flirting or teasing, just genuine curiosity in your tone.

“Well,” Eddie says, slipping a hand into each of the back pockets of your jeans, “there is the fact that I came home to see my girl bent over in front of me. After all the fantasizing I’ve been doing about her today. After the hottest fucking dream I’ve ever had last night.”

“Wow, so you’ve been ready to go all day, huh?” Your smirk indicates the teasing has returned.

Eddie’s hands squeeze your ass as his head ducks down until his mouth is a mere inch from yours.

“You have no idea,” he growls.

The timbre sends a pleasant shiver up your spine, which Eddie notices. He grins and it’s positively predatory. You’ll happily be this man’s prey any day.

“I think,” you say softly, “I’ll go into your room and see if I can find anything that might be able to help you with your…problem.” It takes a massive amount of strength to take a step back, out of Eddie’s arms, but the prospect of having his body on top of yours in a matter of moments gives you the drive you need.

Brown eyes darkened with lust trail you as you slink out of the room. He stands there, silently counting to five before he follows you. 1…2…3…4–oh fuck it, here I come.

Eddie shoves himself off of the counter, steps hurried as he heads down the hall. The moment he steps into his room, you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, one leg crossed over the other, your foot lazily bobbing up and down. The desire that’s been burning in him all day flairs into a roaring fire. His tongue slowly licks over his teeth as he quietly shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Lay down.”

The command leaves no room for argument as you lay back, scooting until your head rests on Eddie’s pillow. A quick glance to the side has you shoving Brittany’s pillow over the edge.

Eddie kneels on the foot of the bed, one leg on either side of your ankles. His gaze rakes up your body, starting at the hem of your jeans, up your sensuous legs, the zipper and button that Eddie yearns to pop open, the curve of your waist and the swell of your breasts, up to the face that he swears was crafted by angels.

No hastiness in his movements, Eddie leans down until his hands are splayed on each side of your stomach. He leisurely leans down and lets his nose brush up the hem of your shirt. Once your soft skin is exposed, Eddie presses gentle kisses in a trail up to the bottom of your bra. Hot breath ghosts against your neck as Eddie crawls further up your body. It’s agony waiting until his face hovers directly above yours.

A smile involuntarily grows, brightening his entire face. Your eyes trace the lines of his mouth, where they come to little dimples in his cheeks. But Eddie takes your chin in his fingers and moves your head so your gazes lock again.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead, you lay there, staring up at him. The fiery look in his eyes makes your breathing speed up.

Torturously slow, Eddie finally leans down and connects his mouth to yours. You immediately respond, tilting your head to slot your lips against his, greedy for all you can get from him. His body weight steadily presses down against you, one of his legs slotting between yours. Your arms immediately wrap around him, one hand tugging the hair tie out so his locks can fall free. A soft moan rattles your chest as you sink your fingers into Eddie’s hair. The sound has Eddie’s thigh pressing harder against your core. His hard length also rubs against your leg, the feel of it causing an ache deep within you.

Your lips part and Eddie wastes no time brushing his tongue against your own. The kisses quickly become frantic, urgent, with him licking into your mouth as your two legs wrap around his one to keep it right where it is against the too-thick denim you’re wearing.

The way his scruff brushes against your chin irritates it with the most pleasurable burn you’ve ever experienced. His mouth is wet and hot against yours and you feel as if you could fall apart just from this.

A groan into your mouth only heightens your pleasure. One large hand slides down and grasps at your waist the other gently cupping the side of your head as he leans on that arm for balance. Eddie’s hips roll up against yours with more fervor, the frequency increasing as well. Every stroke of his tongue against yours comes with his body pressing up against yours, your panties beyond soaked at this point.

Even between your jeans and the material of Eddie’s coveralls, you feel his cock twitch against your leg. His excitement makes the feel of his tongue in your mouth even sexier.

He must agree by the sound of another groan. The low rumble vibrates against your chest. Hips press flush up against yours, your body now rocking in time with his own. The hand pressed against your waist starts to slide up your body and you’re quick to cover it with your own. Mouths not skipping a beat, and hips keeping up their rhythmic pace, you drag Eddie’s hand underneath your t-shirt and up your skin. The back of your hand pushes the left cup of your bra away and you bring Eddie’s hand to rest on your bare breast.

The moment his skin meets yours, the hard pebble of your nipple pressing against the palm of his hand, Eddie’s hips give one last lurch before they still. He moans into your mouth until he can’t breathe anymore and is forced to pull back. Both of you are panting as Eddie rests his forehead against your cheek, his chest heaving against yours, both of your hands still between them.

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbles, followed by a low chuckle. It takes a moment between the layers of clothes, but you soon feel the warmth growing against your thigh. You let out a chuckle of your own as your eyes slip closed.

“Was good?” you ask breathlessly.

“Jesus Christ, you make me feel like a teenager,” he mumbles against your jaw. “I don’t think I’ve come in my pants since high school.”

“I’m honored.” You both share a soft laugh as you slip your hand from beneath your shirt and gently scratch your fingers against Eddie’s scalp.

“I should be embarrassed,” he says with a sigh.

“No, you–”

“But I’m not,” Eddie cuts you off. “How the fuck do you make me feel so comfortable to be me so freely? Even when I come in my pants like a virgin.”

You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad I do,” you tell him.

The hand that was previously against the side of your face snakes down and blindly searches for your hand. You’re quick to slip it into his larger one and he laces your fingers together.

“Fuck, I guess I should get up before it makes a mess of your pants, too. That would be fun to explain away.”

“Mm, don’t move,” you huff.

“I gotta,” he laments with a sigh.

“Fine. But you must give me one more kiss before you do.”

Eddie looks up at you with that boyish grin that always makes your stomach flip.

“I can do better than that.”

He leans up and presses three gentle but loving kisses against your lips. It leaves a smile on your face as he pushes himself up and moves off of the bed. Lazily, you watch him change out of his coveralls and into new boxers, a t-shirt, and jeans. When he catches you staring, Eddie throws you a wink.

“Unfortunately, we’re out of time for shenanigans today. Bath time usually only lasts half an hour,” he says as he comes back towards the bed. He sits down on the edge and rubs his hand along your thigh. “But I refuse to let this go unreciprocated. So…” He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours and bumps your noses together, “tomorrow you better be ready to see how many times I can make you come in half an hour.”

Your thighs clench together just at the thought.

“Bring it on, baby.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWs #request

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

2K notes · View notes

mwuaferrari · 6 months ago

Text

I REALLY WANT TO KISS YOU - LANDO NORRIS

The paddock was nearly empty. Only faint lights illuminated a few tents, and a handful of mechanics were packing up the last tools of the night. Just two races left, and the season would be over. Although the championship hadn’t gone Lando’s way, the atmosphere wasn’t melancholy—it felt nostalgic. A blend of exhaustion, pride, and the inevitable “what ifs.”

You leaned against a metal railing, watching as Lando, a few meters away, chatted distractedly with one of his engineers. He was smiling, but you could sense there was something deeper beneath the surface, something he was working through quietly. When he finished the conversation, his eyes searched for you in the shadows. The moment he spotted you, he walked over with a half-smile that sent your heart racing.

Lando stopped a few steps away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and studying you intently.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice light but tinged with nervousness.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone playful, that familiar teasing lilt he used to deflect anything serious.

“I wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay,” you admitted, glancing at him sideways.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I know,” you said, taking a breath as you carefully chose your words. “But… Lando, you did something incredible this year, you know that? Everyone expected big things from the others, but you—you surprised everyone. You fought until the very end, and that’s what matters.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge whether you really meant it. When he found no hesitation in your expression, he sighed softly and smiled—this time, with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“Thank you. Really. I think I needed that.”

You looked at him, and despite his words, something in his demeanor made you want to comfort him. Without thinking too much, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Lando stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then let out a small laugh as he hugged you back, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder.

“This helps more than words,” he murmured against your hair.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t move far. His gaze lingered on yours, and something in his eyes had shifted—something warm that made your cheeks heat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh.

Lando blinked, then leaned against the railing beside you, a genuine, low laugh escaping his lips.

“I was just thinking about something really stupid.”

“What?” you pressed, curiosity evident in your voice.

He looked at you, biting his bottom lip as if debating whether to say it. Finally, with a shrug and a soft chuckle, he confessed, “I was thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widened as your heart sped up, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“And that seems stupid to you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

“A little,” he admitted, “but it’s also true.”

The air between you seemed to grow heavier, charged with a new kind of energy. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just teasing.

“So, what’s stopping you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.

Lando’s expression softened, his usual playful demeanor melting into something more serious as he leaned closer.

“Nothing, I guess,” he murmured.

And before you could say another word, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, ensuring this was exactly what he wanted. When he felt you respond, his grip on your waist tightened slightly, the kiss deepening into something that felt like it had been building for a long time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were slightly out of breath, wearing matching smiles that neither could suppress.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft and tinged with humor, “that felt a lot less stupid than I thought it would.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he replied, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “But I’m also the guy who just kissed you, so I must be doing something right.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris #lando norris las vegas #lando norris x you #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines

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endless-ineffabilities · 9 months ago

Text

Double-Edged Seduction (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as requested! Set in the current chem ov timeline.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader's top secret campaign is officially launched.

Matty

"So? How's the missus?" Max, Fabien's brother, asks as Matt rejoins the table.

The brothers and Matthew decided to meet up at a bar in the Soho area of London. As with every reunion, the conversation inevitably turned to their current romantic interests.

Matt had excused himself and walked out back when you called, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face. That same smile still lingers as he takes his seat. Max and Fabien exchange knowing glances, clearly noticing the impact you have on him.

"Look at the lad's face. He's smitten to bits, isn't he?" Max teases, nudging Fabien to join him. Fabien merely shakes his head with a smirk, taking a long drag of his beer - he knows it's not all cut and dry, not when Ewan's in the picture.

Oblivious to the underlying tension, Max continues, "I've met her at your party, right? She's the new actress in your show?"

Matt leans forward, eager to chime in, "Yeah, she's new, but there's no shortage of talent there. She's already outshining me in our scenes!"

"Oh, I'll bet. Let's see now, hold on." Max pulls out his phone. "I'm not too familiar with her other stuff. Let me look at her IMDB or something." Then he gets to clicking, typing in your name on the search engine.

"Are you seriously Googling her?" Fabien laughs dryly. "You've met her a couple of times!"

"Yeah, yeah," Max waves him off, "just making sure that our boy Matty here is all set."

Matty? Or Ewan? Fabien thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No need to drag his brother into the drama. As it stands, the nosy guy's gonna find out eventually.

Max hums and ahs as he scrolls through your relatively brief filmography. But when he returns to the search results, he notices a series of headlines. They all seem to cover the same news: your latest Agent Provocateur campaign has just been released.

“Oh? Oh... Oh!” Max exclaims, his cheeks flushing red as he lowers his phone. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be seeing this,” he jokes with a sheepish grin.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Fabien laughs, but it quickly fades when Max shows him the news headline.

"Hey, now," Matt says, "if this is about my girl then I should be the one to see this."

And he does. Heat runs through Matt's body, and it isn't due to the alcohol. No, you are something far more intoxicating. He clicks on one sultry photo after another, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. "Oh, fuck me," he mumbles weakly.

"Oh, god, his face!" Fabien exclaims. "Mate, you are so gone."

"Well, shit." Matt hands the phone back, then says in a lighthearted tone, "Don't look at that anymore. Those aren't for you."

Max raises both hands in surrender, amused.

A hush falls over the lads, which breaks when Fabien lowers his head in a fit of suppressed giggles. "Your face, Matthew!"

Matt chuckles heartily, mirroring Fabien. "Fuck, can you blame me?"

Ewan

"Hello to all, I am Josh Horowitz, here interviewing two upcoming stars of the next big franchise... well, it will be a global sensation, I'm saying it now. Jenna Ortega and Ewan Mitchell!"

Jenna and Ewan both turn to the camera, displaying grateful smiles.

"We're so happy to be here, Josh," Jenna says.

"Well, thank you for being here," Josh replies. "Ewan, how was the flight from across the pond? Do you miss it already or does LA have your heart now?"

"Flight was all good." Ewan nods, smiling. "Yeah, and I mean, LA is great, it's lovely out here for sure. But my heart remains back home, I have to say."

Donna, his publicist, stands tense behind the camera, hoping that he doesn't making any revelations regarding his lovelife. They don't need another talking-to about the conditions of his contract, especially after that whole Instagram fiasco.

Josh asks several routine questions about the upcoming film - the production process, the locations for filming, the costumes. Ewan does well, his answers full of depth, evidencing the dedicated actor that he is.

But Donna wishes he would just smile more in Jenna's direction. This is meant to be a taster of their budding relationship - what fans will look back on and deem the initial flirty stages.

Ewan is, without a shadow of a doubt, a great actor. Fantastic. A star all-around. Donna knows this well - it's the reason why she chose to represent him in the first place. But man does he suck at PR.

Josh then asks a series of rapid fire questions to test their friendship.

Where did they first meet? The director's office in LA.

When is the other's birthday? Neither gets it right, but not for lack of trying.

"Well, I'm a Libra," Jenna says, "and you're a... "

"Pisces?" Ewan answers, unsure of himself. "At least I think so. I've been told that I do act like a true Pisces."

"Oh?" Josh responds. "And Pisces and Libra... are those compatible signs?"

"I think so," Jenna glances at Ewan with a smile. "I hope so!"

"You tell me," Ewan shrugs good-naturedly. "I'm not a big astrology guy, but you know, it seems interesting."

"Okay," Josh moves on. "Last text you sent each other?"

"Oh, wow," Jenna exhales.

"I don't know, let me check," Ewan says, quickly pulling out his phone, and Jenna follows suit. "Maybe something about this interview..." he trails off, distracted by a new notification - a message from Phia that starts with SOS.

What the hell? His mind races. He glances around the room, making sure no one noticed the flicker of concern on his face, before tapping the notification to open the message.

SOS! Our girl is so damn delish!! I don't know how you can ever handle it 😫

Ewan scrolls down, and his entire body stiffens. He is overwhelmed by a mix of surprise and disbelief, yet his face remains a stony mask as he processes what he's seeing. There's a lot to take in - your figure tastefully showcased in delicate lingerie, every curve accentuated with an air of elegance and seduction. His eyes hungrily flick over the images, as he tries so hard to remain composed.

So what if this franchise basically sets up his entire career? So what if he's already signed every contract that ties him to it? And who cares if a Hollywood mogul destroys his image?

Ewan needs you.

He is also, almost certifiably, going mad.

Get it together. He tells himself.

"Ewan? Ewan?" Josh's voice cuts through, snapping him out of blissful momentary delirium. "Care to share with the class?"

"Oh, he's so out of it," Jenna laughs. "What did you find? I looked through and our last message was about this interview."

"Oh, was it now?" Josh chides. "Or did Jenna send anything particularly interesting?

"What, me? I'm the worst texter ever," Jenna replies, shaking her head. "My messages are so plain and boring."

"Oh, sorry, that was nothing." Ewan says, managing an unaffected laugh. "I just got distracted by an Oasis headine. Are you guys going to see their show this year?" He masterfully switches the subject, but his mind lingers on images of your bare skin in lace and silk and...

He crosses his legs, stretches his neck, smiles and nods at whatever the others are saying. Anything to quell that familiar grawing tension in his trousers.

Not now. He prays. Not here.

If that happens... he is well and truly fucked.

Some notes in the margins...

If anyone's got any ideas on a name for the Ewan/Jenna film, I'm all ears. Also - on Ewan's elf character name? I call him Elfmond but I think that might be too telling... hehe.

Cold showers for Mitchell in LA. A lot of cold showers.

And for Matty? 😏🤷🏻‍♀️

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #matt smith #matt smith x reader #matt smith imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader

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internetxanarchy · 5 months ago

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Christmas Data Strike 2024

Instagram is literally suppressing every video I made on reels about this so I’m turning to tumblr. On the 24th and 25th, we are striking on Meta services (Instagram, Facebook) as well as X/Twitter and Tiktok. Streaming services, google, and any amazon services should be boycotted as well if possible.

DO ✅

Engage with activities that are offline

Spend as little time online as possible

Tell your friends and family that you’re going dark and then put your phone in airplane mode!!

DO NOT ❌

Use any of these socials period. Do not give them your screen time

Use google to search for anything - use an alternative search engine

Buy anything online

Stream television or music - download your shows and watch offline if necessary

Why?

These corporations, especially during christmas, use our data to train their models for next year. They want to know what gifts we got and what we’re doing with them. By depriving these companies of our data, we are saying that we want to maintain the right to our data and privacy! Here’s a tiktok video that explains in more detail.

PLEASE reblog for more reach!!! Tumblr is the only platform I can think of that won’t suppress this strike.

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anystalker707 · 7 months ago

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heavy feelings

Pairings: Frank Iero x [gender-neutral] Reader Genre: Light angst / Comfort / Fluff Summary: Longing for each other until finding out you two feel the same for each other. a/n: hey guys i hope i don't regret writing this little thing for mcr after forever away from it, even if this is a sam monroe fic that i adapted for frank iero

MASTER LIST

Of course, you knew it would rain, seeing the darkness gathering in the distance, the clouds looking heavy and dense, slowly rolling in. Maybe not so slowly. You’d predicted it’d rain later at night, and not right when you had to leave work. Or perhaps, even, you just wanted to convince yourself of it after noticing your umbrella wasn’t in your bag. Leaving your house in a rush during an especially stressful week could do that.

There was nowhere to run to now that you searched for shelter by standing as close to the building as possible, staring at your phone’s screen. With a sigh, you finally texted Frank, receiving a text you didn’t know how to interpret. Still, you waited.

Ten minutes or so had passed when the car finally stopped by the curb, and you quickly rushed through the rain to slip into Frank’s car, which had an almost permanent smell of cigarettes and a hint of the drink Mikey spilled on the back seats some weeks ago. The engine hummed under you as the rain pattered against the window, but not loud enough to drown out the music from the radio, making a comfortable atmosphere that felt like a warm hug after a long day at work.

The gray colors of the sky merged with the city lights, creating distortions through the raindrops that ran down the cars’ windows, and also hiding an otherwise a sky with the colors of the end of the day.

“Am I your Uber now or somethin’?” Frank raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to look down the street before crossing the crossroad, his tongue lightly playing with his lip ring.

You shrugged, adjusting your bag on your feet. “Well, seemed like a good opportunity to see you.” Twisting the knob slowly, you turned the volume up, just enough for the words to be comprehensible.

"Oh don't talk of love" the shadows purrMurmuring me away from you"Don't talk of worlds that never were…

Frank was silent, letting his brain swim in the lyrics, before he exhaled. “Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t want you to see me right now.” Annoyance marred his words, rough with irritation and… something else. “Maybe I just want to be left alone.”

Bitter, as usual. You rolled your eyes, looking out the window with a soft sigh. “Just drop me at my place.”

Frank’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, and he glanced at you. “Wait,” he choked out, his throat suddenly dry. “I didn’t mean that. ‘M sorry. I just…” He huffed. “‘M not good at this.” His hair was a little wet from catching a little rain earlier when getting in the car, and wetting his palm slightly when he tugged on his own strands almost painfully. So fucking stupid. Why couldn’t he just be nice to you? “I don’t want to take you home. I want to spend time with you. Just you.” Hopefully, that waver in his voice was just his mind tricking him.

A sigh. “Whatever. Sure.”

His heart kept beating way too fast. Damn it. Frank hesitantly reached over and grazed your thigh with his hand. He needed to cross that bridge. “Come on,” he mumbled in a softer tone. “Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere.” It wasn’t much of an apology, but he couldn’t do much better now.

Silence stretched, and Frank was hyper-aware of everything. His sweaty palms around the steering wheel, the floor vibrating under his feet, the rain, the music, you. Really, all he did was make things worse. No one ever liked him in such a tender way, so he wasn’t sure how to handle it all. Or even how to communicate nicely.

“You know,” Frank attempted, voice quiet, “I don’t like it when you’re upset with me.” The words felt heavy on his tongue.

Silence stretched again, but not for so long. “I’m not upset with you,” you said softly, suppressing another sigh, observing the inked lines along his skin. “Gloomy weather just makes me feel… down.”

Frank’s jaw clenched as he turned the car, navigating the familiar streets towards his house, keeping his eyes glued on the road because he didn’t know how he’d react if he looked at you. Something thick hung in the air, too sensitive to be touched, causing another silence, but it was heavy and oppressive this time. After he pulled into the driveway, it pushed more upon him as he stared at the distorted image of his house through the windshield. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension. But the words wouldn’t come.

Frank fought against whatever seemed to hold him back and reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together, finding solace in the small touch. “Come inside. Please. I need you.”

The two of you shared a look before you nodded, giving his hand a brief squeeze, then releasing it to leave the car and jog towards the front door together.

Focused on unlocking the door, Frank twisted his mouth faintly. He held it open for you before stepping inside as well, both of you leaving the wet shoes by the door as he unlocked it again. He watched you take off your shoes, feeling his heart twist—it was a sign of comfort, of familiarity. Of home.

The house was quiet, the lights dimmed, a guitar forgotten on the couch. It felt empty, lifeless. Just like Frank felt most of the time. He leaned back against the door and looked at you for a moment, analyzing, looking for something. He knew something troubled you, the sadness was there, even if he couldn’t quite tell the reason, and it made his heart ache, made him want to take it away. How could he have such strong feelings for someone else? His stomach churned.

“Come here.” Frank held out his hand. “Please, I just… I need to hold you.”

Despite your silence, your hand found Frank’s, hesitantly, lacing your fingers together as you stepped closer, and his hand immediately tightened around yours. He slowly wiped away a raindrop that ran down your temple, sighing.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered. “I hate knowing that I can’t take it away, that I can’t make it better.” The closeness allowed him to drink in every detail of your features and burn it in his memory so that he could revisit it later when he was missing you.

You looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine, really. It’s not that bad.”

Frank knew you were lying for your own sake, though it still hurt that you didn’t trust him to comfort you, to make everything better. He let his hands fall to his sides when your grip loosened. The frustration made him want to scream and break everything—he would never do that, not when it could worsen things.

“I know you’re not okay, and I hate that I can’t do anything to change that.” Frank pressed his lips together, nipping his lip ring a little, and stepped back, trying not to seem needy or pushy. “I’m here for you.” It was cliché, something you were probably tired of hearing already, but Frank didn’t know what else to offer, and maybe it worked.

Your eyes softened, and your shoulders dropped. “Don’t worry.”

“Come on,” Frank said before silence reigned again. “Let’s go upstairs. We can watch a movie or somethin’.” His hand found yours before you climbed the stairs, and his hand remained in yours when you left your bag by the corner and tugged you down with him as he flopped on the bed. You landed in a tangle of limbs, with his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close, and his face buried in your neck to inhale your scent deeply. Home.

Despite not being what you expected, it was easy to relax and let go against Frank, taking in the oddly comforting scent of his bed and returning the embrace, tracing circles into his back—he hummed contently in response.

The little gesture calmed down the furious sea of emotions inside Frank and reduced the world to the little bubble shared by the two of you. Everything was about your warmth and the weight of your arms around him.

Enough time had passed when Frank turned his head to rest it on your shoulder. His fingers tightened around your shirt, as if you’d disappear if he let go. “Turn on a movie, please.” Your shoulder muffled his voice. “Something you like.” All he wanted was to give you a moment free from the weight of the world on your shoulders, and maybe, just maybe, Frank would find and provide solace in the process. “I don’t care what it is. Just pick something.”

Damn. It was hard to choose. You tried to think about something both of you liked and aligned with the atmosphere. None of you would watch it anyway, but the muffled talk under the sound of the rain outside was comforting. Playing with your hair proved to be a lot more interesting to Frank, an intimate and possessive gesture, to him. Mine, his heart whispered.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” Frank muttered quietly. He knew he wasn’t the easiest to be around, and he could be a lot to handle, but you were still there with him. That meant so much. Despite the lack of an answer, his heart melted at seeing you enjoying the touch, pressing your head to his, briefly. It was almost like you were completely his, and Frank almost allowed himself to slip into the daydream of being yours when guilt pushed him back.

The ending song started playing, but Frank remained still, trying to prolong the connection. He had never felt so close to you before, so… exposed. Unlike he had believed, it was peaceful.

Eventually, he pulled back to meet your eyes in the dim lighting of his bedroom. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat, jumbled and indecipherable. “You should sleep here,” he said, finally, the only words that managed to escape through. “I’ll put an extra blanket on the floor for you.” He wasn’t up to going through the usual bickering of who should take the bed. Most of all, it was an offering, a plea, to have you there while he slipped into the unforgiving embrace of sleep, since he couldn’t have you hold him overnight. “Unless you’d rather go home.”

“I’ll stay. Don’t worry.”

Frank nodded in relief.

The makeshift bed wasn’t the best, but it was the best that Frank could do. If only he could convince you to take the bed. “There,” he exhaled, giving you one of his pillows. “It’s not much, but it’s… comfortable.” He sat back on the mattress. His eyes followed you, observing how his borrowed clothes looked on you and the weight of the day in your eyes. Fuck, he was so lucky to still have you there with him. “Thank you,” he said, because it was all he could do without feeling like he would fall apart. “For staying, for being here, for… everything.” He wanted to say more. It wasn’t the time, though. He didn’t think it was the moment.

“It’s fine. It’s not something you need to thank me for.” You adjusted the pillow on the ground before lying down and pulling a blanket over yourself. It smelled like Frank. The rain still poured outside, comforting and daunting at the same time. “Good night.”

Frank watched you in silence, nodding, and swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Good night,” he mumbled. He dimmed down the light on the nightstand, leaving the room in a soft, cozy darkness, a little envious that you fell asleep faster, but he knew the day had been harsher on you. The weight in his chest held Frank awake, and he couldn’t help but roll on his side to observe you. There was not much to see in the darkness, but he could make out the rise and fall of your chest in a peaceful rhythm that lulled him into a sense of security—a false one.

If only you cuddled with him to sleep. Frank reached out, letting his fingertips graze your arm in a whisper of a caress, allowing himself to imagine a scenario in which you fall asleep in each other’s arms. He doesn’t want to wake you because of his silly daydreams, especially not when you’re finally allowed to rest.

With a heavy sigh, Frank forced himself to withdraw his hand and let you sleep undisturbed, averting his attention to the ceiling. He’d just settle down for the comfort of your presence with the knowledge that, even if not enough, it was more than he deserved. Among the mess of thoughts and feelings, he could finally fall asleep.

Panic rose in his chest when Frank noticed the empty spot beside his bed, but then he saw you standing by the window, with your hands on the windowsill, watching the rain, and his heart calmed down. He sat up with a yawn, leaving smeared makeup on his fingers with rubbing his eyes. The sight of you standing there filled him with a strange sense of peace.

Frank swung his legs over the bed's side before standing up and as much as he wanted to walk over, he preferred to rush to the bathroom and at least take a piss and wash his mouth before anything. Given the situation of it, he presumed you’d been awake for longer than he thought.

Finally, Frank returned and approached you, standing close enough so that your shoulders touched. “Morning,” he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. “You slept well?” He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the sleep in his eyes. “Coffee? I can make some if you want.”

You observed him for a moment before finally shaking your head. “Morning. The floor isn’t so bad.” You paused. “We can have some coffee later.”

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Frank prayed you wouldn’t mention anything about leaving. He hoped there wouldn’t be any last-minute band practice today. Spending so much time with you was… nice. More than nice, actually. It was everything he had been wanting lately.

Rain kept pattering against the window. It was a soothing sound he found himself soothing into. He tilted his head, pressing his nose to the cold glass, and his heart fluttered at the chuckle he snatched from you. “We could…” His mind raced with the possibilities. He didn’t know. Whatever you wanted, as long as you two spent time together.

“There’s not much we can do.” You shrugged, averting your eyes to the outside again, watching the puddles. “And you? Slept well?”

Frank looked over at you, nodding faintly. “Mm, yeah.” Sleepiness still clung to his voice, but he couldn’t fight the feeling that came along with rainy days. He decided to indulge in his wishes and slide an arm around your waist, relishing the closeness, humming as he buried his face in your shoulder for a moment before following your gaze outside the window. He felt like melting when you held him in return. “We can watch a movie. I’ll even let you have the remote.”

For some reason, Frank felt clingy, unable to hold himself back from tightening his arms around you, basking in the warmth of your skin that seeped through your—his—clothes. He’d never felt this close to you, and maybe you felt the same.

Your nose pressed to his cheek, breath tickling his skin. “Sounds good.”

Frank wanted nothing more than to turn his head and meet your lips, but he restrained himself. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he mumbled with a soft sigh. Words heaved on his tongue like lead, at the same time they prickled in a plea to be freed. “Y’know, I love you.” While he pulled away to look at you in the eyes, he was already making up a thousand excuses in his mind, but all of them vanished once his eyes met yours, and he winced.

“I… ‘m sorry,” Frank said, anxiety coiling in his gut, and he wanted to spill a thousand words to justify himself, but nothing ever came. His brain short-circuited the moment you leaned in and simply kissed him, the sensation so much more intense and better than anything he could’ve imagined.

A soft sound escaped Frank’s throat when he finally returned the kiss, adjusting his grip around you, taking in every detail—your breath fanning over his philtrum, your eyelashes brushing against his cheek, your hands on his shoulders, his lip ring between your lips, everything. The doubts and worries melted away shamefully easily, calming down his heart in a way he’d never felt before.

Only a few seconds and eternity had simultaneously passed when the kiss came to an end, and Frank looked at you again, his mind a lot quieter now, lips tingling. He felt so safe in your embrace, fuck.

“I love you, too, okay?” You mumbled, kissing his cheek, and he couldn’t help but smile, burying his face in your shoulder.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#my chemical romance #mcr #frank iero #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #frank iero x reader #gerard way #ray toro #mikey way #fun ghoul #party poison #kobra kid #jet star

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szariahwroteit · 5 months ago

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Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 7

Jude didn't feel anger towards Tori for getting flowers from Alex; rather, his pride had taken a hit, and it was enough to cast a shadow over his mood.

Their final day in Dubai before they were set to head back to Madrid was somewhat awkward for both of them.

The private jet they were in was silent, barring the low hum of the plane's engine as they soared through the sky. Despite the plushness and luxury of the private aircraft, Tori felt like she was suffocating in Jude's silence.

“Jude, do you… do you resent me for this?" she asked, breaking the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jude glanced over at her, surprised by the question. He could see the uncertainty etched on her face, and it tugged at something deep inside him. "Resent you? No, it’s not like that," he replied, trying to keep his tone steady.

"Then what is it?" she pressed, her eyes searching his. "Because things have been awkward between us since I found the flowers from Alex in my room."

Jude shifted uncomfortably in his plush leather seat, avoiding her penetrating gaze. The last thing he wanted was to let her see how much the whole situation had gotten under his skin. He turned his focus out the oval window, watching the endless clouds drift by, hoping to find the words to ease the tension coiling between them.

“It’s just... complicated,” he finally said, glancing back at her. “I thought we were in a good place, Tori. Then I see those flowers—”

“Jude, I didn’t ask for them. You know that, right?” she interrupted, her voice still soft but edged with desperation.

“I know,” he said, leaning back and running a hand through his tousled hair. “It’s just… it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. And I hate that it does.” He could hear the frustration in his voice, even as he tried to suppress it.

Tori blinked back the emotions that threatened to spill over. “You’re worried about Alex? About what he thinks?”

“No, not him,” Jude said, shaking his head. “It’s more about us. I’ve been thinking about what we have, and how it could change. I don’t want anyone else intruding. I don't want any other man near you,”

For a moment, both of them sat in silence, the plane's hum filling the space between them.

Tori's heart raced at his words, a mix of surprise and elation coursing through her. The tension in the air shifted, charging the space with a palpable energy that made her skin tingle. “You’re jealous,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking upward almost involuntarily.

Jude shot her a sceptical glance, his brow furrowing. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” she challenged, leaning forward, the distance between them shrinking. “You care about me. You don’t like the idea of me being with someone else.”

“What did you expect?” he replied, his voice dropping an octave, thick with possessiveness. “Him sending you those flowers felt like he was trying to taunt me in a way.”

“If that is the case, Jude, you're letting him win by being in this mood. I'm here with you, I don't know Alex and I don't care to. I'm where I want to be, isn't that enough?” she asked.

Jude's gaze locked onto hers, a swirling mix of emotions churning in his chest. The intensity of her words struck a chord deep within him, but his pride wrestled with his desire to fully let her in. “It's not that simple,” he repeated, though his voice trembled slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.

Tori sighed, leaning even closer, her heart aching at the vulnerability she sensed in him. “Then help me understand. You’re here, I’m here, and I want you. Can’t you see that? Those flowers don’t change anything between us.”

Jude’s jaw tightened as he processed her words. “It’s just... everything feels so precarious. One moment, I think we’re solid, and then—”

“And then someone sends me flowers,” she interjected, a hint of impatience flaring in her voice. “But Jude, flowers don’t mean anything if I don’t feel anything. You have to know that by now.”

The sincerity in her eyes ignited a flicker of hope within him, sparking something he had feared to acknowledge. “But I do care,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And the thought of losing what we have scares me.”

Tori reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand, warmth spreading where they connected. “You won’t lose me unless you push me away. I’m not going anywhere until you push me away. So don’t. Please.”

Jude felt the breath hitch in his throat as he absorbed her words. The distance that had felt so vast moments ago began to close, the electricity between them crackling with urgency. “I don’t want to push you away, Tori.”

“Then don't,” she whispered, her eyes searching his for a sign of reassurance. “Tell me what you want.”

He hesitated, the weight of his pride battling against the desire to pull her into his arms. “I want you, Tori.”

“You have me,” she murmured. There was no clear direction in where the situation was heading, nor had they wholly discussed their wants and needs, but she was undoubtedly his—a notion that scared her and made her feel alive all at once.

The hum of the plane faded into the background as Tori’s words hung in the air, heavy with promise. Jude’s heart raced, his mind racing through the possibilities of what it meant to truly let her in. The fear of vulnerability mingled with the thrill of desire, creating a tumultuous storm within him.

“Then let’s stop dancing around this,” he said, his voice steadier now, laced with determination. “I want to be more than just a passing thought in your mind. I want you to choose me.”

Tori’s breath caught in her throat, a mixture of hope and disbelief swirling in her chest. “As long as you choose me.”

Jude nodded, the weight of her words settling over him. “I’m in, Tori. I want to be the one you think of, the man who makes you smile, the one who gets to hold you.”

Tori felt her heart swell at his sincerity, a smile breaking through the tension that had hung between them as she felt her cheeks flush with warmth. “I’d like that.”

He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. The simple act felt monumental, a bridge towards something more.

By the time they landed in Madrid, the city was shrouded in the darkness of the chilly winter night.

The tension that had once stood between Jude and Tori began to morph into something more lustful, a simmering desire that ignited a connection neither of them could ignore. The emotional chasm that had kept them apart gradually closed, replaced by a magnetic force drawing them irresistibly closer, as if they were two celestial bodies orbiting each other in a dance of intimacy and longing.

The moment Jude entered Tori's apartment, he felt an irresistible urge to touch her. He placed soft kisses along the curve of her neck while staying right behind her, his hands resting firmly on her hips.

Tori leaned back into him, her breath hitching as the warmth of his body enveloped her. The softness of his lips against her skin sent a rush of electricity coursing through her veins, igniting a fire she had kept hidden beneath layers of uncertainty.

“Jude,” she murmured, turning her head to catch his gaze. There was a spark of something more profound in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored her own.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his voice thick with desire as he pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the dim light of the apartment.

Tori’s heart raced as she felt the weight of his words settle in her chest. “Yes,” she responded, her voice steady yet laced with vulnerability. “I trust you, Jude.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. It was just the two of them—caught in a moment that felt both electrifying and fragile. “Say it again,” he rasped.

“I trust you,” Tori repeated, her voice stronger this time, filled with conviction. The intensity in Jude's eyes deepened as he absorbed her words, and the air between them thickened with unspoken promises.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice dripping with lust, a slow smile breaking across his lips. “Now go to your bedroom remove your clothes and meet me back in here.”

Tori’s pulse quickened at his commanding tone, a thrilling mixture of anticipation and nervousness flooding her system. The way he looked at her—eyes darkened with desire—made the rest of the world vanish. She nodded, though words eluded her.

With deliberate slowness, she walked away from him, each step a dance of temptation, allowing the moment to hang between them like the silken threads of an intricate web. The distance of the living area began to feel electric, and as she reached the threshold of her bedroom, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Jude hadn’t moved; he watched her, an intense fire smouldering in his gaze that left no doubt about his intentions.

Once inside her room, she closed the door, her heart racing as she contemplated her next moves. The dim light accentuated the contours of her body, and she could hear the quiet thrum of her pulse in her ears. With trembling fingers, she began shedding her clothes, each piece a reminder of her vulnerability but also her strength.

As the final article fell to the floor, she stood in front of the mirror, catching her reflection. Her skin glowed, and her breath was ragged. This was a choice—a choice to let Jude in, to embrace the connection they had forged amid tension and uncertainty.

Taking another breath, Tori stepped out of the bedroom, a mix of trepidation and exhilaration flooding her as she entered the living room. Jude sat waiting on a dining chair that he'd placed in front of the floor-length mirror on the far side of the room; his gaze swept over her through the mirror's reflection with an intensity that made her feel both exposed and cherished.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice raspy with need. “You’re so beautiful.”

Tori felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks at his words, the way he looked at her igniting something deep within her. His desire was palpable, wrapping around her like a heatwave, and she revelled in it.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked her voice barely a whisper, a part of her still grappling with the sudden shift from uncertainty to this undeniable electric connection.

“Absolutely,” Jude said, his gaze unwavering as he leaned back in the chair, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his lips. “And tonight I want to show you just how beautiful you are.”

Bolstered by his encouragement, Tori took a tentative step closer, her heart pounding in rhythm with the boldness that had settled in her chest. She loved the way Jude looked at her—like she was the only thing that mattered at that moment.

Jude leaned back in the chair, his eyes drinking in the sight of Tori's naked form as she stepped closer. The dim lighting caressed her curves, accentuating the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist. "You're stunning," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I want to worship every inch of you."

Tori's skin tingled under his gaze, a flush of warmth spreading through her body. The intensity in his eyes made her feel both exposed and cherished, a heady mix of emotions that left her breathless. She took another step forward, the space between them shrinking, until she stood just a few inches away from him.

Jude reached out, his fingers grazing along the curve of her hip, the touch electric against her skin. "Turn around," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. "I want to see all of you."

Tori obeyed, her pulse quickening as she rotated to face the mirror. She watched as Jude's reflection appeared behind her, his hands settling on her hips, his touch firm and possessive.

“First I'm going to make you cum with my mouth,” he drawled into her ear. “I want you to watch the way your body reacts to me, it's one of my favourite things.”

Tori's breath hitched at Jude's words, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. She watched in the mirror as his hands slid from her hips, trailing over the curve of her waist and up to cup her breasts. His touch was electric, igniting a fire beneath her skin. Tori's knees went weak at his filthy words, her core clenching with need. She arched into his touch, craving more of the delectable friction. "Please, Jude," she whimpered, too far gone to care about playing coy.

Jude's hands tightened on her breasts, his thumbs swiping over her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. "Sit down and open your legs,” he instructed with a lusty snarl.

Tori did as instructed, perching on the edge of the chair and parting her thighs to reveal her dripping sex. Jude knelt between her spread legs, his hot breath fanning over her sensitive folds. "You're so fucking wet for me already," he praised, trailing a finger through her slick heat. Tori bit back a moan, her hips canting forward seeking more of his touch.

Jude rewarded her by ducking down and dragging his tongue along her slit. "Ah!" Tori cried out, her head falling back as his mouth pleasured her most intimate place. Jude lapped at her, savouring her taste, before focusing his attention on her aching clit. He suckled the sensitive bud between his lips, making Tori's thighs tremble. He placed them over his shoulders one by one.

"Jude, oh god, yes!" she panted, fisting her hands in his hair. Jude doubled his efforts, alternating between broad licks and targeted flicks of his tongue. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room.

Tori gasped as Jude's tongue delved deeper, his mouth working her with an intensity that left her breathless. She watched through hooded eyes as he pleasured her in her reflection, the blatant desire etched on her face sending a scorching heat straight to her core.

"Jude, don't stop," she panted, her hips rocking against his mouth as she chased her impending release. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her, his tongue circling her clit with deliberate precision.

The coil of tension in her belly wound tighter, her body trembling on the edge of ecstasy. Jude's eyes flicked up to meet hers, the raw hunger in his gaze pushing her over the edge.

"I'm coming, Jude!" Tori cried out, her back arching as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched around his tongue, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.

Jude worked her through it, softening his touch as she came down from her high. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs before rising to his feet, his lips glistening with her essence.

“Come here,” he mumbled, pulling her up from her seat on shaky legs, Jude led with his tongue as he bowed his head to kiss her hungrily, making sure she tasted herself on his tongue.

When parted lips, Jude went to reach for the hem of his sweater to begin disrobing only for Tori to place her hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Let me,” Tori said softly as she looked up into his eyes.

Tori took her time as she peeled his sweater up and over his head, revealing his toned physique. Her fingers danced over his chest, tracing the lines of his abs before dipping lower. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down his legs along with his boxers.

Jude's breath hitched as cool air kissed his heated skin. His cock sprang free, already hard and straining towards his stomach. Tori licked her lips at the sight, desire coiling in her belly as Jude grabbed his wallet, retrieving a condom before tossing it carelessly onto Tori’s couch, watching as she took the small plastic square and ripped it open so she could roll it down his cock.

"Sit down," she instructed as she pushed him back onto the chair. Jude complied, watching through heavy lidded eyes as Tori gave him her back, reaching between them so she could hold him steady as she sunk down on his length.

Tori sank down on him in one smooth motion, a low moan falling from her lips as he stretched her, before placing his hands beneath her thighs and spreading her open so she could watch as his length nestled inside of her.

She was in complete awe as she took in their reflection, her legs spread open in Jude’s lap, the possessive grip of his hands on her hips, the look of desire mixed with determination on his face as he fucked her from beneath, the slight reddening of her pussy as it stretched to accommodate his length and girth—it was beautiful.

The sight was undeniably captivating—a blend of intimacy and raw passion that ignited a fire in Tori’s belly. She could hardly believe the connection they were sharing, each thrust deeper than the last as Jude held her firmly in place, his fingers digging into her soft skin with a primal urgency.

As their reflections gazed back at them, Tori felt a surge of emotion. It was more than just physical; it was a profound bond that had evolved during their time together. The way Jude looked at her, with a mixture of reverence and hunger, made her heart race.

“God, you’re so perfect like this,” Jude murmured, his voice thick with lust as he maintained his steady rhythm beneath her. The way his eyes roamed over her body in the mirror's reflection—appreciative, almost worshipful—made her pulse quicken. She felt powerful, alive, and utterly consumed by him.

“I love how you fill me up, you're so deep,” Tori gasped, her words spilling out in a breathy whisper as the heat of their connection enveloped her. Jude’s strong fingers tightened around her hips, guiding her movements with an expert precision that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. Each thrust sent delicious jolts of sensation radiating through her body, intensifying the way she felt both connected to him and completely lost in the moment.

“This little pussy was made to take my cock,” Jude responded, a low growl escaping his lips. He thrust upward with a renewed vigour, his eyes locked onto hers in the mirror as if to emphasize his words.

Tori's breath hitched as she gazed at their entwined reflection, her body flush with arousal. The way Jude looked at her, his eyes dark and possessive, sent shivers down her spine. She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way.

"I can feel you so deep," she panted, her hips rolling ever so slightly to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts.

Jude's hands slid from her hips to grab her ass, kneading the supple flesh as he guided her movements. "That's because you were made for me," he rasped. "This tight pussy was born to be filled by my cock."

Tori's nipples hardened at his filthy words, her pussy clenching tight around his thick length. She watched, transfixed, as he thrust into her, his balls slapping against her ass with each fierce thrust.

"You are so fucking perfect," Jude groaned, his eyes devouring the sight of her bouncing tits and glistening, slightly reddened folds stretched wide around him.

Jude let out a low moan as his cock momentarily slipped from Tori, showcasing the gape of her pussy in the mirror's reflection. "Look how open you are for me," he growled, his fingers sliding through her slick folds, spreading them wider.

Tori let out an unbridled cry of pleasure, her vision blurring as her eyes filled with tears.

Tori's body trembled, her legs quivering on either side of Jude's thighs. She could feel every inch of his hard length still buried inside her, a delicious fullness that made her feel owned, and possessed.

"Yes," she whimpered, the word falling from her lips like a hymn of devotion. "I'm yours, Jude. Only yours."

Jude's eyes flashed with possessive heat at her words. He withdrew his fingers and gripped her hips once more, pulling her down onto his cock in one swift motion. Tori cried out, her back arching as he filled her completely.

"Put your hands on my knees and ride me," Jude commanded, his voice a low rumble.

Tori's body trembled, her legs quivering on either side of Jude's hips as she felt him deep inside her. She could hardly believe the connection they were sharing, the way he filled her so completely.

With a shaky breath, Tori placed her hands on Jude's knees, her fingers digging into his skin. She could feel the heat of his body radiating through her, the power of his cock as it stretched her open.

"Ride me," Jude growled, his voice thick with lust. His hands slid from her hips to grip her ass, kneading the supple flesh as he guided her movements.

Tori let out a soft moan, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. She could feel every inch of Jude inside her, his thick length hitting all the right spots with each gentle undulation.

Jude was completely in awe of how submissive Tori was to his command, the way she committed her body to pleasure.

This is exactly what he needed after having his ego so subtly tested by Alex. The flowers were beautiful, but Tori was his, and regardless of whether or not Alex was aware of their current tryst, he needed to state his claim over her.

“Turn around and look at me,” Jude commanded as sent a stinging slap to Tori's ass, craving eye contact with her.

Tori let out a gasp as the stinging slap registered on her skin, her body jolting with the force of it. She could feel Jude's eyes on her, his gaze burning into her back as he waited for her to obey.

With a shaky breath, Tori lifted herself off his cock and turned to face him. She straddled his hips once more, this time with her back to the mirror.

Jude's hands slid up her back, his fingers splaying across her shoulder blades as he guided her down onto his length. Tori's head fell back, her mouth parting in a silent moan as he filled her once more.

"Look at me," Jude growled, his voice low and commanding. His hand slid up her spine to grip the back of her neck, turning her head to face him.

Tori's eyes flitted open, her gaze locking with his. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath, the possessive heat in his stare making her pussy clench around him.

"I want to look in your eyes as you cum on my cock," Jude murmured, his hips rolling up to meet hers.

Tori's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into Jude's eyes, her body trembling with each roll of his hips. The way he looked at her, with a mix of possessive heat and adoration, made her heart race.

"Tell me how good I feel inside you," Jude growled, his hand sliding from her neck to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, his eyes following the movement.

Tori's voice was barely a whisper as she replied, "You feel amazing, Jude. So big and hard, stretching me in all the right ways." Her hips undulated, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour. "I love how you fill me up."

She leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm as she gazed into his eyes. "I'm going to cum."

Tori's walls fluttered around Jude's length, her body teetering on the edge of climax. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment. All it would take was one more perfectly angled thrust, one more whispered promise from those sinful lips.

"You'll cum when I say so," Jude commanded, his voice a low, authoritative growl. His hips stilled beneath her, his cock buried deep inside her fluttering walls.

Tori whined, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her impending orgasm. She could feel Jude's eyes on her, his gaze intense and demanding as he held her teetering on the edge.

"Please," she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need to cum, Jude. I'm so close."

Jude's hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed tight circles around the sensitive nub, his touch maddeningly light. "Beg for it," he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Beg me to let you cum on my cock."

Tori's head fell back, her mouth parting in a silent cry. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, her body desperate for release.

"Please," she gasped, her hips rolling against his hand. "Please let me cum, Jude. I need it so badly. I'll do anything, just please let me cum on you."

Jude's hand tightened on Tori's hip, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He could feel her walls pulsing around his cock, her body desperate for release. The sight of her, pleading so sweetly, was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

But Jude had other plans. He wanted to see her fall apart, to watch her come undone under his touch. He wanted to feel her walls clench around him as he brought her to the brink over and over again.

With a sinister grin, Jude leaned in close, his lips brushing against the shell of Tori's ear. "Cum for me," he murmured, his voice a low, commanding purr. "Cum all over my cock like you asked."

At his words, Jude could feel Tori's body tense, her walls clenching down on his length. He thrust up into her, his hips meeting hers in a rough, desperate rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with Tori's wild moans and his own guttural groans.

Jude could feel his own release building, his balls tightening as he chased his pleasure.

Tori’s toes curled against the carpeted floors of her bedroom, her arms falling lazily over Jude’s shoulders as he took over from beneath, his hands on her body as he used her to seek out his own end.

Turning his head, Jude caught Tori’s lips with his own and he groaned into her mouth, biting down on her bottom lip as he came, filling the condom wrapped snugly around his length.

There was an unmistakable shift in the air during this particular encounter, a palpable change that lingered between them. Their connection ran deeper than mere attraction; it was an intertwining of souls that transcended the physical realm. Each caress and whisper ignited a torrent of emotions, forging a bond that felt almost sacred. The intimacy they shared was not just about bodies merging but about hearts laying bare their desires and vulnerabilities, creating a tapestry of passion that resonated far beyond the moment.

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buildbrandbettter · 8 months ago

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rootedinrevisions · 7 months ago

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Friends (with Benefits) Dont: Part 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You guys know I couldn't leave you hanging after that last part! There will be one final part coming tomorrow but for now I need sleep and am going to head to bed. Keep an eye out for the final part tomorrow!

SUMMARY: The emotional reunion between you and Jake unfolds on the deck of the aircraft carrier, where anticipation hangs thick in the air as you wait for him to land. When he finally appears, relief washes over you, but the pain on his face is a stark reminder of the danger he faced. Embracing him feels like the world fades away, yet the weight of unspoken feelings looms between you. Later, as he recovers in the med bay, you sit by his side, both grappling with the aftermath of his confession and the silence that followed. In this tender yet complicated moment, you find comfort in each other, setting the stage for a new chapter in your relationship that promises to redefine everything you thought you knew.

4o mini

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: FLUFF.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

The salty breeze whipped through your hair as you stood on the deck of the aircraft carrier, heart pounding in your chest. The vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretched before you, but your gaze remained fixed on the horizon, straining to catch a glimpse of Jake. Every second felt like an eternity, the anticipation gnawing at you.

You barely registered Rooster’s plane as it swooped in for a landing, the familiar roar of engines drowned out by the anxious thrum of your own thoughts.

People tried to approach, offering words of comfort, but you brushed them off with a shake of your head. You couldn’t focus on anything but the hope—and fear—of seeing Jake again. Memories of his last radio transmission echoed in your mind, and you fought to suppress the wave of emotions threatening to crash over you. What if he didn’t come back? What if the next plane to touch down carried news that shattered your heart? You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the horizon to yield the figure you desperately needed to see.

Minutes stretched on, each passing moment deepening your anxiety until finally, a speck appeared in the sky. The roar of engines grew louder, and adrenaline surged through your veins. It was the search and rescue jet that had been sent after Jake had ejected.

As soon as the plane touched down, you found yourself sprinting across the deck, adrenaline fueling your every step. Your heart raced as you approached the jet, watching intently as Rooster and Coyote helped Jake down, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern.

Jake leaned heavily on them, his face pale and drawn, but your breath caught in your throat when his eyes found yours. A spark ignited in his gaze, and a smile broke across his face, lighting up the shadows that clung to him.

“Hey sweetheart, you miss me?” He called out, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, and it was so absurdly silly that a laugh escaped your lips despite the weight in your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, torn between wanting to rush to him and the instinct to hold back, afraid to hurt him with a hug. The pain etched on his face was unmistakable, and you hesitated, wanting to make sure he was truly okay.

“Are you going to come over here, or just stand there looking pretty?” he teased, raising an eyebrow as his smile grew, that glimmer of mischief still intact despite the circumstances.

Nodding in response, you finally closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. The warmth of his body against yours felt like home, a balm to your frayed nerves.

Jake let go of Rooster, using one arm to anchor himself around your back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the weight of him, the exhaustion pressing down on his shoulders, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You held him tightly, feeling the rise and fall of his breath against your skin, grounding yourself in the reality that he was here, alive, and safe. No words were needed; the intensity of your embrace said everything you both felt.

You and Jake remained locked in your embrace, time seeming to stretch indefinitely as the chaos of the aircraft carrier faded into the background. The world around you blurred, and all that mattered was the warmth of his body, the scent of him, and the relief flooding through you that he was finally here, in your arms. It felt like a dream, one you never wanted to wake from. But just as you began to lose yourself completely in the moment, a voice broke through the haze.

“Seresin, they’re waiting for you in the med bay,” Admiral Cyclone announced, his tone clipped and professional.

You instinctively began to pull away from Jake, concern flooding your mind at the thought of him needing medical attention. But his grip tightened around your waist, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go just yet.

“I know,” Jake replied, his voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ve got one thing I need to do first.”

He exchanged a knowing glance with Coyote, who nodded but warned, “Keep it short, Hangman.”

With that, Jake turned to you, his expression shifting from relief to a kind of intensity that made your heart race.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and serious, as if this moment meant more than just a casual brush of lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth spreading through you as you nodded. “Yes.”

Jake leaned in, closing the distance between you as he captured your lips with his. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle reassurance, but it quickly deepened, filled with a desperate hunger and emotion that had been building between you both. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away, and for that fleeting moment, the rest of the world faded away again, leaving just the two of you suspended in time.

* * * * *

You received the news that Jake had been cleared from the medical building, and your heart raced with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity of worry, you made your way to his room, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of fluorescent lights guiding you. You hesitated briefly at the door, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

Jake lay propped up in bed, looking better than the last time you saw him but still weary. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, a smile breaking across his face that chased away the shadows of the past few days. You slipped into the chair beside him, your heart swelling at the sight of him, finally safe.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern.

“Better now that you’re here,” he replied, his grin wide and genuine.

You smiled back but then tilted your head slightly. “No, really. How do you feel?”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Like I just got shot out of the sky.”

Your smile faltered for a second, the gravity of his words crashing into you. You rolled your eyes, not ready to let his joke lighten the moment.

“Is it too soon for that?” He looked momentarily sheepish, realizing that his attempt at humor might not land well. “Yeah, probably. Sorry about that.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the unspoken words hung between you like a thick fog. “We need to talk about... what you said,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s expression turned serious. “I know. I’m sorry for doing it the way I did. I was worried I wouldn’t make it back this time, and I needed you to know.”

“Jake… I need you to know how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” His gaze softens even more as you speak, the intensity of his focus unwavering. “I love every moment we spend together. Every single one. But when you went down…” Your voice catches, but you push through, the words trembling with the fear you’ve been carrying. “I was terrified. All I could think about was if I’d never see you again. If you never got the chance to come back to me.”

Jake’s face falls, guilt flashing across his features.

He opens his mouth again, but you’re already leaning forward, softening the moment with a teasing smile. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I swear, I’ll shoot you down myself.”

The seriousness of the moment breaks as Jake chuckles, the sound low and warm. His smile is brighter now, his eyes twinkling with a familiar spark. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, his voice light despite everything.

His smile lingers as he shifts slightly in the bed, wincing a little from the movement.

He pats the small space next to him, raising an eyebrow. “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing at the proximity it would bring. “I don’t know, Jake. Aren’t you supposed to rest?”

He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Rest? Please. I was shot at and had to eject from my jet. Are you really going to deny me holding my girl?”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, and a smile crept onto your face despite yourself. With a small laugh, you shifted closer, carefully lying down next to him. As you nestled against him, you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

“Your girl, huh?” You said, a teasing tone in your voice.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah…my girl,” he repeated, his voice warm and filled with sincerity.

His arm wraps around you as you settle into his side, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.

As you settle against Jake, the warmth of his body easing your frayed nerves, you feel your eyes growing heavier. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s finally starting to relax, the adrenaline and fear of the day slowly draining away. Jake must notice because his hand, still tracing soft circles on your arm, pauses for a moment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him, and you catch the soft concern in his eyes, though his smile remains steady. “You should get some sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head gently before you can say anything. “I’m fine, darlin’,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your arm, a gentle reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

His words are a balm to your exhausted mind. You trust him completely, but the fear that gripped you earlier still lingers in the corners of your thoughts. Now, though, it feels distant, fading into the background as the reality of having him here—safe, alive, holding you—grounds you.

You nod softly, too tired to say anything more, and let your head sink back against his chest. Jake’s steady heartbeat becomes the only sound you focus on, each rhythmic thud lulling you closer to sleep. His arm tightens around you just a bit, a silent promise that he’s not letting go, that you’re safe.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. The tenderness in his voice is enough to make your chest ache, but this time, it’s a different kind of ache—one filled with love and relief instead of fear.

The last thing you feel before sleep takes over is the warmth of Jake’s body, the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. And for the first time in what feels like days, peace finally settles over both of you. Neither of you speaks another word, but none are needed. In the quiet of the med bay, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you both drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep, safe and content in the knowledge that you’re together.

And this time, there’s no uncertainty, no fear—just the steady, comforting certainty that when you wake, Jake will still be there, just like he promised.

As you drift in and out of sleep, you hear the door creak open, and the soft shuffle of a nurse entering the room. She’s quiet at first, checking Jake’s vitals on the monitor and making a note on her chart. But when she glances over at you, curled up against Jake on the narrow bed, she hesitates.

“Lieutenant,” she says gently, not wanting to startle you. “I’m sorry, but your guest can’t stay in the bed with you. It’s against protocol.”

Jake opens one eye, his expression already shifting to one of mild annoyance. He’s clearly not thrilled about the idea of you leaving his side, and the nurse can sense it. She’s just doing her job, but she doesn’t realize she’s dealing with Jake Seresin.

“I’m fine,” Jake replies, his voice a little gruff from the exhaustion but steady. “She’s not hurting anything by being here.”

The nurse tries again, a bit more firmly this time. “It’s for your safety. We can bring a chair over—”

“I don’t want her in a chair,” Jake cuts her off, his tone growing more insistent. He shifts slightly in the bed, adjusting his arm so it’s holding you a little tighter, making it clear he doesn’t intend to let you go anytime soon. “She’s staying here. With me.”

There’s a brief, tense silence. The nurse looks a bit exasperated but still professional, knowing she has to follow the rules. “Sir, I understand, but—”

Jake sighs, now fully awake, and fixes the nurse with a stare that could stop anyone in their tracks.

“Listen,” he says, using that smooth, authoritative tone that makes it hard for anyone to argue with him. “I’ve just been shot out of the sky, survived an ejection, and had to think about the possibility I’d never see her again. I’m not about to let some rule keep her from staying in this bed with me. So unless you’ve got some life-or-death reason, she’s staying.”

The nurse opens her mouth to respond but then seems to realize there’s no winning this one. She sighs, clearly recognizing the futility in arguing with Jake Seresin when he’s determined about something.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she finally concedes, though it’s clear this isn’t the last of it.

As soon as she leaves, Jake smirks to himself, looking down at you.

“Told you I’ve got your back,” he murmurs, his tone playful, as if the whole exchange was just a minor inconvenience.

But the real showdown comes later in the evening. You’ve been peacefully resting beside him when another nurse—or maybe it’s the same one from before—comes in to remind you that visiting hours are over.

“Ma’am,” she says kindly, but firmly. “It’s past 9 p.m., and you’ll need to leave for the night.”

Jake’s eyes snap open, and he’s immediately back on high alert.

“No, she won’t,” he interjects before you can even respond. He shifts in the bed, the pain in his body seemingly forgotten as he props himself up on one elbow. “She’s staying. I’m not spending the night in here without her.”

The nurse lets out a tired sigh, clearly not up for another round with Jake. “Sir, it's hospital policy. You need to rest for your recovery—”

“Hospital policy,” Jake echoes with a smirk, cutting her off again. “Let me tell you something about that. You know what’s really good for my recovery? Her being here. So if you want me to heal up quick and get out of your hair, you’re gonna let her stay.”

“Sir—”

“I’m not asking,” Jake says flatly, and his tone leaves no room for negotiation. He folds his arms across his chest, wincing slightly as the movement aggravates his injuries, but he doesn’t let it show. “I’m telling you. She’s staying.”

The nurse gives you an apologetic glance, as if seeking backup, but you know there’s no reasoning with him at this point. You’re about to offer to leave to keep the peace, but Jake shoots you a look that says he won’t hear of it.

After another futile attempt to argue, the nurse finally throws up her hands in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters under her breath, “but if anyone asks, I didn’t see anything.”

As she leaves, Jake grins triumphantly, settling back down with a satisfied sigh. “That’s more like it,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

You shake your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Jake chuckles, wincing slightly from the pain but still smiling. “Only when it comes to you, darlin’. I’m not spending another minute without you if I can help it.”

But of course, the night staff makes another attempt to enforce the rules about an hour later. This time, Jake’s too tired to put up much of a fight, but he still manages to give them one last stubborn retort before they give up for good.

“If you want me out of this bed so bad,” he says with a smirk, “maybe just let her stay and I’ll be out of your hair even faster.”

Eventually, the staff realizes there’s no winning this battle. You stay curled up next to him, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek as the exhaustion from the day finally catches up to both of you. Jake’s arm wraps protectively around you, pulling you closer.

“See?” he whispers, his voice soft in the dim light of the room. “Told you that you weren’t going anywhere.”

You smile against his chest, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. “You really are impossible,” you murmur sleepily.

Jake chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “But you love me for it.”

"Yeah, yeah I do." You mumble as you close your eyes again.

And with that, you both finally drift off to sleep, content in each other’s arms. Nothing else matters but the fact that you’re together, and Jake’s stubborn determination ensures that’s exactly how it’s going to stay.

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