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blindmagdalena · 7 months ago

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All of a Sudden, There You Are

3k. homelander x gn!reader. pining. pure fluff! an older fic that desperately needed cleaning up. rewritten for a consistent perspective and added 600-some words. gif credit. AO3 link.

As Homelander's stylist, it's your job to ensure he looks his best, whether he's saving the world or saving face in front of the cameras. After nearly a year servicing him, things between you change abruptly.

Familiarity and consistency feed a base need in all of us. So much of what is best in us is bound up in the permanence of those around us that it becomes the measure of our stability. For Homelander, there are precious few things in his life that offer him any such quality of solidarity. People come and go. It's the nature of the business that has always been his life.

He's stopped paying attention to the PA's, interns and other worker ants that rotate in and out. Their faces blend together in a bland sea of normality and mediocrity. They're little more than cogs in the machine of his contrastingly extraordinary life.

Funny, then, that you should catch his attention amidst the insectoid buzz of it all.

It happens quite abruptly. He's just sat down before a brightly lit vanity where it's your job to style his hair and makeup, as it has been for the last several months. You greet him good morning, as you do every time, but for whatever reason... He notices you today.

"Remind me, what's your name again?" Homelander asks, watching you draw a comb from your kit.

That visibly catches you off guard. You offer only a dumbfounded stare for a moment before snapping to attention, smiling sheepishly as you introduce yourself. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. Had he never actually asked? Probably not. There’s rarely a point in bothering.

He hums contemplatively. "You've been styling me for a while.”

"Yes, sir. About eight months now," you say, using the comb to begin working product through his hair. He’s fairly certain this is the most he's ever spoken to you in all that time.

That sounds like both a long while and yet no time at all. It's nothing in the grand scheme of his life, but in terms of the people he sees consistently, that puts you in a shockingly small pool of individuals. Inevitably they move on, whether by choice or because they’ve found a way to irritate him enough that he has them dismissed.

He can recall his last stylist not by their name or face, but by the way they’d always manage to spray product in his eyes. They hadn’t lasted two days. The one before that he can’t bring to mind a single detail of.

Typically humans only become exceptional to him for how they grate on his patience. You’ve somehow managed to avoid making yourself noteworthy in that regard. Before today you had served as little more than a properly functioning gear in the well-oiled machine of his life.

Now it's as though you suddenly exist to him. Blood, flesh, laughter and all.

"Gooood morning," he greets you the next day, once again triggering another flare of surprise in you. He’s aware of the strangeness of his initiation, but behaves as though he isn’t. He flashes you one of his trademark Hollywood grins.

"Good morning to you, sir," you say with an answering smile that catches his eye. You sound pleased, which tickles something pleasant in the back of his own mind. He likes how well you’re mirroring his shift in mannerism.

He waves his hand dismissively. "Please, Homelander is fine. You keep it awfully formal."

You're actually quite pretty, he notices. Not exceptionally so, not like the celebrities and figures of social influence that someone like him brushes shoulders with on a daily basis, but... pretty nonetheless. He doesn't remember you being this pretty before, and speculates while you work whether you've changed something about yourself. He cannot put his finger on what exactly that may be, though.

He’s perceptive when it comes to the things that matter. Until yesterday, you hadn’t.

You laugh sweetly, pushing your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut as you do. You’re good with your hands, much better than the last stylist. He’s sure he made note of that at some point, but in the same way someone notices when a door stops squeaking. You take it for granted after the first time.

"I'm a creature of habit. Might take me a couple tries to adjust," you warn, covering his forehead with your palm as you spritz product into his hair. You never let any of that sticky crap get on his face, much less in his eyes. You take measures to ensure his comfort, even though he’s never scolded you. You seem to do it entirely out of reflex simply because you care enough to.

"Well, you've made it this far. You've got time to adjust," he says. Now that he's seen you, he finds that he doesn't care for the thought of you being gone. More than that, he starts actively looking forward to the time he spends in the chair with you. What used to be a monotonous aspect of the celebrity side of his life becomes a comforting ritual.

The two of you chat with surprising ease, like old friends made new. He tells you about himself, vents to you about work and personal business alike. In turn he learns about you and the life you live beyond the time you share with him. It’s nothing extraordinary–not like his–but it's yours, and for some reason, that’s enough to make it interesting.

The more he grasps that you are an entire person outside of the service you provide him, the more he wants to know. He doesn’t give a fuck about your elderly cat, but he does like the way your voice changes when you talk about it. His mind drifts when you tell him these little anecdotes, and he wonders what you tell the people in your life about him. He wonders if your tone similarly changes when you do. Do you speak fondly of him? Days turn to weeks. Little by little, Homelander discerns small changes in himself. There’s a slight pep in his step these days. The sun feels a little warmer, the thrum of crowded events less irritating. His attitude towards interviews flips; even the ones he used to dread he begins to anticipate. He knows you’ll have him looking and feeling his finest. He knows that regardless of what awaits him, you’ll have something to say about it that will make it easier to smile for the cameras.

Thinking of you is sometimes all it takes.

When he has nothing on his schedule to be styled for, he sulks. On those days, he misses your laugh the most.

He makes sure the products he keeps at home are the same as the ones you use. The smell of them reminds him of the smell of you, of your knock-off Dior perfume that fades too quickly after you apply it, which makes it just perfect for his keen sense of smell. The humble subtlety of you, your sincerity and gentleness, have become a boon against the unfeeling corporate reality of his life. On the days he does see you, he begins to miss you before he’s even left you. Now, as he walks to his next scheduled appointment with you, he’s painfully aware of the beat of his own heart. His stomach is twisting in on itself, though he isn’t hungry. If anything, he feels a little nauseous. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the cacophony inside of him becomes. Is he sick? That shouldn’t be possible, but he can’t understand what’s happening to him. Pausing just outside the door, he takes in a steadying breath.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Taking a moment to collect himself, he gives his face two quick pats on either side, shaking his head. Get it together, he tells himself, stepping into the dressing room.

“Gooood morn–” Homelander cuts himself short, looking around the empty room. His brows pinch. He isn’t early. Pursing his lips, he takes a brief stroll about the room, clutching his hands behind his back. He peers down the hallway, cutting through the layers of wall with his vision. No sign of you on the grounds yet. He clicks his tongue.

You’ve never been late. Unable to settle, he paces for a while. He has the thought to call you, but he realizes he doesn’t have your number. Why doesn’t he have your number? It seems such an obvious thing to have despite the fact he’s never needed it.

He’s just pulled out his cellphone to track it down from Ashley when the door suddenly opens and his head snaps up. The initial relief he feels is cut short, turning cold in his chest when the person who steps through the door is most definitely not you. “Good morning!” the woman greets him, her voice chirpy and grating in his ears. She’s not really happy to see him. She doesn’t know the first fucking thing about him. At most, she’s another sycophantic drone who’s only pleased to breathe his air. In his upset, she looks freakishly distorted, her smile overly wide and fake. His leather gloves creak as he curls his hands into fists. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, voice as measured as he can manage it. His anger hits in an unreasonable surge, hot like lava from a volcano. This woman’s only crime is the fact she’s not you, and yet it’s enough to make him want to rip her head off her shoulders, spine and all. The woman hesitates in the doorway, her chipper demeanor flipping to a fearful one. “Uhm, my name is Lisa, I’m supposed to style you to–” “Where is my stylist?” he interrupts her, prowling towards her like a hungry predator. He says again, louder this time, voice full of anger and anxiety in equal measure, “Where the fuck is my stylist?!” “I– I don’t know!” Lisa yelps, stepping backwards from him. “I was called in as a last minute replacement! They said– they said there was an accident, or–” Homelander pushes her roughly out of the doorway, blowing past her with a frustrated growl. She hits the wall hard before crumpling to the floor like a lifeless sack of potatoes, but he doesn’t even register it. He calls Ashley, stalking down the hallway, his footfalls loud with fury. Why the fuck didn’t anyone think to tell him? “Ashley!” He snarls into his phone the second she answers. “Tell me where the fuck my goddamn stylist is.”

Homelander is at the hospital within minutes. The staff puts up a meager effort to enforce protocols, but he’s The Homelander, and after a lie or two, they eventually let him through. He hates the smell of hospitals. The sickly mix of bleach and illness, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. They never should have brought you here. You should be in Vought’s med ward.

You should be with him. When he finds you, you’re sitting with the hospital bed halfway reclined, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The vibrant reds and blues of his suit paint a sharp contrast to the stark white walls of the hospital room when he steps inside. You have a pudding cup in your hand, though you nearly drop it when you see him in the doorway. His hair is woefully unstyled, splayed loose in every direction from his flight. “H-Homelander,” you sputter, choking on your bite of pudding. You swallow, clearing your throat. He’s walking towards you. The closer he gets, the faster your heart beats in his ears. “What are you doing here?” “Are you okay?” He asks, blowing off your question entirely. He blinks and his vision flickers through your clothes and skin alike. He scans your body for internal damage, for broken or fractured bones. You’re not wearing a cast or anything, but he needs to be sure. You nod, clutching at the blanket, wearing your confusion plainly on your face. “Yeah, I’m okay, it’s probably just mild whiplash, but I’m getting an x-ray to be–” “You’re fine,” he breathes more to himself than to you, his relief palpable. He can hear the flustered patter of your heart clearly. With the adrenaline wearing off, he’s beginning to feel that sickly familiar feeling that he had experienced in the hallway; butterflies rampant in his stomach, battering their wings frantically inside him. His jaw feels tight, his tongue too big for his mouth. Staring at you now, frail and precious as you are in this ugly hospital bed, he realizes what’s the matter–what has always been the matter–he is deeply and incurably in love with you. “Are you okay?” You ask, taking in his tortured expression, his wildly wind-swept hair. The obvious concern in your voice and in your eyes churns his already twisting gut. “No,” he says, the response knee-jerk. Even though the room is still, he feels as though the world is spinning around him. “No, I think I’m in love with you,” he says, expression twisted up, like he’s figuring out each word as he says them. Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches in your lungs. It’s as if the words have paralyzed you. Homelander laughs. It sounds a little hysterical.

“I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me,” he says, reaching out to cup either side of your face in his gloved hands. “I love you,” he says, voice firmer now, the realization setting in fully. He looks slightly delirious with it. He’s discovered a secret that he should have known all along, that seems so obvious in hindsight. Of course he loves you, because you love him. The gentleness in your hands as you touched his face, the care in your fingers stroking through his hair far longer than both of you knew you needed to. You dedicated yourself like no other to showing him reverence in service of him, and is that not love in its purest form? And yet, you don’t look to share his elation. You look like you’ve been struck by lightning, expression wide and bewildered. You still haven’t taken a breath. Homelander’s smile falters. “What’s the matter?” He asks, tone dropping a touch. “This is good news! Great, even.” For every second that you do not speak, the beat of his heart feels heavier in his chest. Why don’t you look happy? Finally, you suck in a shaky breath. He watches you with all the intensity of a viper poised to strike.

“I…” You hesitate. You lift your hands and grip his wrists, squeezing them through the thick fabric of his gloves as if to convince yourself that he’s really there. Maybe the accident was worse than he thought. Did you hit your head?

Panic swells in his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him you might not reciprocate. The thought makes him ill.

“I never…” your eyes turn glassy, welling with tears. “Say it!” he wants to shout, his own heart hammering loudly enough to nearly drown out your words. “I never would have thought–or even dreamed–in a million years that you might love me back.”

love me back.

Like a dying ember roaring back to life, Homelander’s demeanor reignites, his faded smile broadening once more.

“I realized it when I was worried fucking sick because you didn't show up,” he says, leaning closer to you. He’s brought the scent of ozone from the sky he tore through on his way to you, but all he cares about is the faint smell of pudding lingering on your lips.

He huffs a laugh. “They sent in some idiot to fill in for you. Like they could replace you. I almost tore her head off,” he says, giddy with euphoria. Your expression shifts, brows furrowing. “Wait, what? You almost-” “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he interrupts, his voice a low rumble. He can already taste you in the breaths you’re close enough to share with him, and he’s never been hungrier for anything–or anyone–in his life. You fall silent with a shiver, nodding minutely, eyes falling shut. “Please do.” His lips meet yours in a gentle press. He deserves a medal for not crushing you with the sheer magnitude of his desire. You all but melt against him, settling into his grip as smoothly as you settled into his life, his mind, his heart. When the two of you break apart, you make a breathless noise that shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He feels hyper aware of your every sound and move.

God, how he wants to feel every part of you.

You move your hands to touch his face and he leans into the softness of your caress. You’ve been close enough to kiss more times than he can count. The fact it’s only now occurred to him to do so seems like lunacy. Your eyes dip to his lips, your thumb brushes the bottom one. He catches it with a quick kiss and you laugh your sweet bell-chime laughter.

Pushing your hand into his hair, the wondrous joy in your expression becomes tinged with amusement. “And people wonder why I use so much gel,” you murmur, smooth the wild splay of his hair down with both hands, cupping the back of his head. Homelander smiles wide and boyishly, which prompts you to kiss him again.

“I’m not having some kind of brain bleed hallucination right now, right?” You ask quietly, the tip of your nose lightly pressed to his. He brushes his lips against yours between words. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he purrs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Despite the ugly fluorescent lights and the dreadful hospital stench all around, you look resplendent in your joy.

He had been right. It was love that you touched him with. It had been subtle, imbued in your every movement, and for months he had soaked it up until, unbeknownst to him, he fell into it as well.

“Trust me when I say you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, brushing your nose with his.

Maybe instead of tearing them limb from limb, he’ll send flowers to whoever the sorry son of a bitch that rear-ended you this morning was. Who knows how much more time he would have wasted before he realized he was utterly smitten with you.

#i've been meaning to get this fic fixed up for ages bc the original was a MESS and randomly switched to the reader's pov halfway in lol #but i have major fondness and nostalgia for this fic #it's from like my first month in the fandom #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #x reader #my writing #fluff

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favefandomimagines · 23 days ago

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Now That We Don’t Talk (j.b)

Summary: now that we don’t talk…

AN: this is a long one boys and girls and nonbinary friends

Alternate Ending

The cameras loved them.

They were the kind of couple that seemed plucked straight out of a Hollywood script—Joe Burrow, the golden boy of the NFL, and Y/N, a star who shined just as brightly in her own field. Every magazine, every sports network, every gossip blog had something to say about them. America’s sweethearts, they were called. The kind of couple that made headlines for simply existing.

But what the world saw—the perfectly timed red carpet appearances, the viral social media moments, the dazzling courtside dates—was only a fraction of what their relationship really was.

It all started at a charity gala in Los Angeles.

Joe wasn’t the type to be impressed by fame. He wasn’t the guy who got starstruck, wasn’t the one to fawn over celebrities just because they were on the big screen. Football was his life—his focus. His teammates had to practically drag him to the event, insisting that it would be good PR.

Y/N, on the other hand, had been born for nights like this.

She thrived in the glitz and glam, the cameras, the flashing lights. It wasn’t that she was shallow—far from it. But she understood the game. She knew how to command a room, how to make people laugh, how to charm even the most cynical of hearts.

And that included Joe Burrow.

She noticed him before he noticed her. He was leaning against the bar, dressed in a sleek black tux, perfectly put together but somehow completely unaware of just how good he looked. His jaw was sharp, his lips pressed into a small, amused smirk as he listened to one of his teammates ramble about something.

Y/N was intrigued.

Not because he was Joe Burrow, the star quarterback. But because he was the only person in the room who didn’t seem desperate to be seen.

So, naturally, she made it her mission to change that.

"You're either really mysterious or really bored," she said as she slid up next to him at the bar, her voice laced with playful curiosity.

Joe turned his head, startled for a split second, before a small smirk tugged at his lips. He knew who she was, of course. It was impossible not to. She was everywhere—movies, music, magazine covers. She was the kind of famous that made people feel like they knew her, even if they didn’t.

"I'm neither," he said smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. "But that was an interesting introduction."

Y/N grinned, twirling the straw in her cocktail. "Well, you looked like you needed rescuing."

"From what?"

"From the serious case of ‘I don't belong here’ that’s written all over your face."

Joe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You caught me."

It was easy after that.

Too easy.

They talked like they had known each other forever, like they had been waiting for this moment. It didn’t matter that their worlds were different—his ruled by playbooks and stadium lights, hers by movie scripts and flashing cameras. For that night, none of it mattered.

By the time the gala was over, Joe had Y/N’s number saved in his phone under a simple “Trouble”—a joke, but also a warning to himself. Because something about her felt dangerous in the best way.

From that night on, they were inseparable.

At first, they tried to be discreet. It wasn’t about hiding—it was about protecting something before the world could ruin it. They wanted to figure out what they were before the headlines did.

But it didn’t take long for the world to catch on.

The first time they were seen together was at a Bengals game in Cincinnati. Y/N had shown up in the stands, wearing his jersey, sitting beside his mom, cheering like she had been a fan forever. The cameras caught her—how could they not? The biggest pop star in the world was at an NFL game, losing her mind every time Joe completed a pass.

The internet went into a frenzy.

That night, Joe texted her: You made my mom’s entire year, you know that?

Y/N: Good. She’s my favorite Burrow.

It was effortless between them.

Joe loved how she made him laugh, how she pushed him out of his comfort zone without ever making him feel like he had to change. Y/N loved how steady he was, how he never let the fame get to his head, how he made her feel safe in a way she never had before.

They traveled the world together. Italy in the summer, where they drank wine on balconies and got caught by paparazzi on a yacht. The south of France in the offseason, where Joe learned (very poorly) how to dance on a rooftop with her.

And through it all, they loved each other fiercely.

There were things the cameras never saw.

Like the time Joe showed up at one of her concerts in disguise.

He wasn’t one for big public displays, but he wanted to see her perform without the pressure of being Joe Burrow in the front row. So he threw on a hoodie, a baseball cap, and sunglasses, and stood in the VIP section like a regular fan.

Y/N spotted him from the stage instantly.

The next morning, there was a viral video of her grinning mid-song and blowing a kiss toward the crowd. The internet went wild trying to figure out who she had been looking at.

Joe texted her after: That was for me, right?

Y/N: Nope. Definitely the guy next to you in the Bengals hat.

Joe: Liar.

Or the time she surprised him after a game, waiting in the locker room tunnel when he least expected it.

He had played a rough game—bruises forming beneath his jersey, exhaustion heavy in his bones. But then he saw her standing there, arms wide open, eyes shining with something softer than the spotlight.

“You did amazing,” she whispered against his shoulder.

And just like that, the rest of the world faded away.

For a while, it was perfect.

But even the most golden of couples have their breaking points.

As Joe’s season intensified, Y/N’s career soared higher than ever. There was always something—a game he had to focus on, a movie she had to fly out for. Their time together shrank, their conversations turned into quick check-ins rather than deep talks.

The missed calls, the exhaustion, the unspoken hurt—it started building.

There were nights Y/N fell asleep alone, staring at the empty space beside her, wondering if this was what love was supposed to feel like.

There were nights Joe sat in his locker, scrolling through social media, seeing Y/N at events he should have been at but couldn't because football always came first.

They were still in love.

But love wasn’t enough.

And for the first time, they both started to wonder—

What happens when you realize the person you love the most... is the one you’re slowly losing?

At first, the differences between them were exciting.

Joe was all about structure—early mornings, strict schedules, a life ruled by game plans and discipline. Y/N was the opposite. She thrived in the unpredictability of her world. Late-night studio sessions, spontaneous flights to Paris, impromptu performances under neon lights.

They were yin and yang.

And for a while, it worked.

Joe loved how she brought color into his life, how she could make even the most ordinary moments feel cinematic. Y/N loved how grounded he was, how he kept her sane in the madness of fame.

But what once felt like balance slowly became friction.

It started small—missed phone calls, text messages left on read, a growing list of "Sorry, I can't make it" and "Wish you were here."

They promised it would be temporary.

"We just have to get through the season."

"We just have to get through filming."

"We’ll make time soon, I swear."

But time never came.

Y/N’s career was exploding—new projects, new opportunities, a world waiting for her. She was everywhere. Award shows, red carpets, magazine covers. When Joe turned on the TV, she was smiling in interviews, dazzling the world like only she could.

But she was never with him.

And he was never with her.

The first time it really hurt was the premiere of her new movie.

It was supposed to be a huge night—her first leading role, a moment she had worked for since she was a teenager.

Joe had promised he would be there.

But the night before, his coach called an emergency meeting. A must-win game was coming up, and the team needed to focus.

Y/N, I’m so sorry. I have to stay for practice.

Yeah. I figured.

Soon, I promise.

But soon never happened.

That night, she walked the red carpet alone. Smiled for the cameras. Gave interviews. Pretended she wasn’t aching inside.

And when she got back to her hotel, she turned on her phone to see Joe’s Instagram story—

A picture of him at the Bengals facility, throwing passes under the stadium lights.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then she put her phone face down and went to sleep.

The next big fight came after one of Joe’s biggest games.

It was an away game against Kansas City, a prime-time Sunday Night Football matchup. The kind of game that everyone was watching. Joe had played phenomenally—four touchdowns, a game-winning drive in the fourth quarter. The kind of performance that cements a quarterback’s legacy.

Y/N wasn’t there.

She wanted to be. She had planned to be. But a last-minute industry event pulled her away.

Joe called her after the game, still buzzing with adrenaline.

“I saw the highlights!” she said, her voice bright but distant. “You were incredible.”

He exhaled. He wanted her there.

“It would’ve been nice to see you in the stands.”

Y/N bit her lip. “I know. I tried, Joe, I really did. But—”

“There’s always a ‘but.’”

Silence.

The kind of silence that held too much weight, too much unsaid emotion.

Y/N sighed. “What do you want me to say? You miss things too, you know.”

“I know,” Joe said quietly. “And I hate it.”

The next day, there were headlines: Joe Burrow celebrates huge win, girlfriend nowhere to be found.

She tried not to let it sting.

She tried not to notice that he didn’t text her goodnight.

It was after an argument—one of those quiet, devastating fights that lingered even after the words stopped.

Y/N had left for an event, and Joe had stayed home.

He sat on the couch, flipping through channels, half-watching some meaningless TV show, when his phone buzzed.

A text from a teammate.

"Damn, your girl is everywhere tonight."

Joe frowned, opening Twitter.

And there she was.

Standing next to some famous actor, both of them smiling under the bright lights. Her hand rested on his arm. It was nothing. But at the wrong angle, the wrong moment, it looked like everything.

The next morning, when she came home, she found him sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at his coffee like it held all the answers.

He didn’t look up when he spoke.

“Are you happy?”

Y/N stilled, setting her purse down. “What?”

Joe exhaled, finally meeting her gaze.

“Are you happy?” he repeated. “With me. With...this.”

Her stomach twisted.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A real one.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth was—she didn’t know.

And Joe? He could see it in her eyes.

Neither of them wanted to say it out loud, but in that moment, they both knew—

The love was still there.

But the timing? The world they lived in?

That night, Y/N climbed into bed beside him, curling into his warmth like she always did.

Joe wrapped an arm around her out of instinct, but something had shifted.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them said, "We'll fix this."

Because for the first time, they weren’t sure if they could.

They just laid there in the dark, both pretending they didn’t feel the weight of what was coming next.

And for the first time in their relationship, the silence wasn’t comfortable.

It was the sound of something breaking.

It happened in the offseason.

They had both known it was coming for weeks, maybe even months. The missed calls. The late replies. The exhaustion in their voices when they did talk. Everything that once felt effortless had turned into something they had to work for. And while love was always worth fighting for, neither of them could deny that they were fighting more than they were loving.

But even with all the signs, knowing doesn’t make it easier.

It was supposed to be a night to fix things. Joe had just come back from a much-needed vacation, and Y/N had cleared her schedule for the weekend. They agreed on dinner at a quiet restaurant, away from the flashing lights, away from the outside world.

But from the moment they sat down, the air felt different.

Joe tapped his fingers on the table, his mind somewhere else. Y/N stirred her drink absentmindedly, barely touching her food.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

This wasn’t them.

Y/N sighed, placing her fork down. “Joe…”

He looked up, his blue eyes tired in a way they never used to be.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she whispered.

His jaw tensed, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. He had known this was coming. He had felt it deep in his bones for weeks, but that didn’t mean he was ready to hear it.

“We’re just… not the same anymore,” she continued, her voice careful. “I feel like we’re always missing each other, even when we’re in the same room.”

Joe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to give up. She wanted to hold onto him, to tell him that they could fix this if they just tried a little harder. But how long could you keep holding onto something that was already slipping through your fingers?

“I don’t want to walk away,” she admitted, tears burning behind her eyes. “But Joe… when was the last time we were really happy?”

Joe swallowed hard, looking away. That question shouldn’t have been so hard to answer.

Y/N reached for his hand across the table, squeezing it gently. The way she always had. But this time, he didn’t squeeze back.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His eyes flickered to hers, something raw and unspoken flashing behind them. He loved her, too. He always would. But love wasn’t enough.

He let out a long breath, nodding slowly.

“I love you, too,” he said. And just like that, it was over.

They didn’t make a scene.

They left the restaurant separately—Joe through the side door, Y/N through the front. The paparazzi were waiting, cameras flashing as they shouted questions she didn’t have the energy to answer.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Joe.

She swallowed, pulling it out to see the text.

Get home safe.

She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

Y/N: You too.

She wanted to say more.

Wanted to tell him that she didn’t regret a second of it. That she would always root for him. That he would always be her favorite story, even if they didn’t get a happy ending.

But instead, she tucked her phone away and got into the car, leaving behind the only person who ever made her feel like home.

Joe didn’t go straight home.

He drove around the city for hours, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His phone buzzed again. A text from Ja’Marr..

“You good?”

He stared at it for a long time before finally typing back:

“No.”

That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Every part of him ached—but not in the way it did after a brutal game. This was different. This was the kind of pain that sat in your chest and refused to leave.

For the first time in his life, he had lost something he couldn’t win back.

Y/N didn’t sleep that night.

She sat on her couch in a hoodie that still smelled like Joe, knees pulled to her chest, phone clutched in her hand.

She kept expecting a call. A text. Something.

But it never came.

And she didn’t reach out either.

Because deep down, they both knew—there was nothing left to say.

The worst part wasn’t the breakup itself.

It was everything that came after.

It was waking up and realizing there were no more good morning texts waiting on her phone. It was scrolling through Instagram and seeing a picture of Joe at practice, looking focused, looking fine—like she hadn’t just walked away from him.

It was reaching for her phone after a bad day, only to remember that he wasn’t hers to call anymore.

For Joe, it was even worse.

Football had always been his escape. The one thing that never let him down. But even in the middle of practice, between drills and film sessions, his mind would drift to her.

He’d hear a song playing in the locker room—one of hers—and his stomach would tighten.

He’d catch himself reaching for his phone, tempted to text her, only to stop at the last second.

He’d drive past a place they used to go, and suddenly, it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Love doesn’t just disappear overnight.

It lingers.

It haunts you.

And no matter how much they tried to move on, there were still nights when they both lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if they had made the biggest mistake of their lives.

But they never reached out.

Because they both knew—

It would hurt too much to talk.

Joe didn’t think about her.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Training camp started, and he threw himself into football harder than ever. Early mornings, late nights, extra drills—anything to keep his mind busy. The media praised his focus. Locked in. Unshakable. Ready for the season of his life.

What they didn’t see was the way his thumb hovered over her contact some nights.

Or how he still wore the bracelet she gave him—a simple leather band, hidden beneath his wrist tape.

Or how, when the team played in Los Angeles, he caught himself looking for her in the crowd, even though he knew she wouldn’t be there.

Y/N, on the other hand, convinced herself she was free.

She threw herself into work, into new projects. New music, new opportunities, new people. She let herself be photographed at industry events, wearing the kind of radiant, effortless smiles that made it look like she had never been in love with Joe Burrow.

But behind closed doors?

She still hesitated before playing his highlights when ESPN aired them.

She still wore his oversized hoodie when she was home alone.

And sometimes, when the world was quiet, she’d catch herself thinking about calling him. Just to hear his voice. Just to see if he was okay.

But they didn’t talk.

Not when she was nominated for a Golden Globe.

Not when Joe led the Bengals to another playoff win.

Not when they were in the same city, just blocks apart, but worlds away.

It happened at a charity gala in New York.

Y/N hadn’t planned on going, but her team convinced her. A good PR move. A chance to show the world she had moved on.

She had spent the night mingling, smiling, doing what she did best—commanding the room.

And then, she felt it. A shift in the air. Like someone was watching her.

She turned her head, and there he was.

Joe Burrow, across the room, standing near the bar, his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey.

Her breath caught in her throat. He looked… different. The same, but different.

The suit was sharp, the same cool, composed expression on his face. But there was something in his eyes—something softer.

For a moment, it was like time folded in on itself.

Every late-night conversation. Every whispered “I love you.” Every fight, every apology, every moment that had made them them.

Joe’s grip on his glass tightened.

Their eyes met, held. And then—just like that—he looked away.

He turned, said something to the person beside him, took a sip of his drink.

Like she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt something crack inside her chest.

She knew this was how it was supposed to be.

They weren’t together anymore.

They didn’t owe each other anything.

But wasn’t it strange?

That after everything, they were just two people in the same room, pretending they had never been anything more?

She didn’t look at him again for the rest of the night.

And when she got home, she locked herself in her hotel bathroom and cried for the first time in months.

The headlines started soon after.

Joe Burrow Spotted in NYC, No Y/N in Sight—Are They Finally Moving On?

Y/N Looking Radiant at Charity Event Amidst Split From Joe Burrow.

Has Joe Found a New Leading Lady? NFL Star Seen with Mystery Woman.

Y/N didn’t click on the articles.

She didn’t let herself wonder if Joe had really moved on.

She focused on her work.

She poured herself into writing new music.

And for the first time in months, she felt something close to herself again.

Until one night, when she found herself sitting at her piano, fingers hovering over the keys, a melody forming before she even realized what it was.

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

“…Did you get anxious though, On the way home?, I guess I'll never, ever know, Now that we don't talk.”

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons… and from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry.

Even when they weren’t speaking, Joe was still in everything.

Joe saw the song before he heard it.

He was sitting in the Bengals’ film room, scrolling through his phone during a break when he saw the trending topic.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With New Song: Is It About Joe Burrow?

His stomach tightened.

He should have ignored it.

But instead, he put his AirPods in and hit play.

The first notes hit, soft and aching, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the locker room anymore.

He was back in the car with her, driving down the coast with the windows down.

He was in their hotel room in Italy, tracing circles on her skin while she hummed the melody to a song she hadn’t written yet.

He was on the phone with her at 2 AM, whispering ‘I love you’ before hanging up.

And then he heard the lyrics.

You grew your hair long.

You got new icons.

And from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on.

Joe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face.

It was about him.

It was always about him.

And wasn’t that the cruelest part?

That even after all this time, after all the nights they had spent apart, after all the silence—

They were still haunting each other.

Joe hadn’t been looking for it.

He had just finished practice, his body sore, his mind exhausted. The locker room was buzzing with post-practice energy—teammates joking around, music blasting from someone’s speaker. He pulled his phone out, scrolling through notifications absentmindedly, until—

There it was.

A headline from E! News, pushed to his phone by an algorithm that clearly didn’t give a damn about how much he didn’t want to see this.

"Y/N Goes Public with New Romance: A Red Carpet Debut with Superman Star David Corenswet!"

Joe froze, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He shouldn’t open it.

He should swipe it away, pretend he never saw it.

But his hands had a mind of their own.

The article loaded, the first thing he saw was a photo.

A picture of her.

Y/N, sitting in the back of a sleek black car, wearing a stunning gown that looked like it had been made just for her. Her hair was styled perfectly, her makeup soft but radiant. She looked beautiful. Effortless. Happy.

And beside her—him.

David Corenswet. The new Superman. A literal superhero.

He was leaned in close, whispering something in Y/N’s ear. And Y/N?

She was smiling.

Not just any smile. That smile. The kind Joe hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. The kind that lit up a room. The kind that used to be reserved for him.

Joe’s grip on his phone tightened.

A sharp pang shot through his chest, something bitter settling in the back of his throat.

Y/N and the actor had revealed their relationship on the red carpet of her new movie.

A premiere. Something Joe had never gotten to do with her.

Because of football.

Because he was always too busy.

Because he never made the time.

And now? This man was there. Supporting her. Walking beside her with his hand on her waist, proudly standing by her side, looking at her like she was the most important thing in the world.

Like she deserved. Joe never gave her that.

He had been too caught up in his world, too focused on his career, always thinking there would be time later.

But later never came.

Because he had lost her.

And now, she had moved on. She had forgotten him.

Joe felt something tighten in his chest, a slow, suffocating kind of realization creeping in.

She’s happy without me.

The words echoed in his head, loud and unforgiving.

The article went on about how they had been spotted together for weeks, how David had been at the premiere, supporting Y/N like a real partner should. It even mentioned how the two of them looked completely in love.

Joe couldn’t read anymore.

He turned his phone over, resting his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor of the locker room.

Around him, the noise of his teammates laughing, talking, living their lives carried on. Like nothing had just shattered inside of him.

“Yo, Burrow, you good?”

Joe blinked up at Ja’Marr, who was standing in front of him, helmet in hand, brows raised.

Joe forced a shrug, masking it. Because what was he supposed to say?

"No, actually. My ex, the love of my life, just soft-launched her new relationship with Superman, and I think I might be having a breakdown."

So instead, he exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Ja’Marr smirked. “Man, get some sleep. You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Joe let out a humorless chuckle.

Ghosts were easier to deal with. This?

This was watching the person he once thought he’d spend forever with, moving on as if he never existed.

And the worst part? She deserved it.

She deserved someone who would show up for her. Someone who wouldn’t make excuses. Someone who could love her out loud, the way he never could.

Still, the realization left a sour taste in his mouth.

Because no matter how much she had moved on—Joe hadn’t.

And now? He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

#imagine #imagines #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow

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gracieheartspedro · 3 months ago

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an: hiii lovers! this is the first year I'm doing this! I have been compiling my favorite fics this year and wanted to list them all out for you! there's a wide variety of characters here, so I am organizing them that way. just note, I am not putting all their warnings as all these fics have their own warning lists. please don't read anything that'll make you uncomfortable.

all these fics are smutty. I am a bit of a whore.

also would love to say that these may not have been written this year, simply just ones I've read this year!

happy reading <3

Joel Miller:

bitter by @pedgito - a moment of desperation and a kind gesture leads you down an inescapable path alongside two brothers and a town with a nasty secret

cherry thrill by @hellishjoel - your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity.

Homemade by @gutsby - While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

The Hills by @honeyedmiller - drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

Dirty Laundry by @pedgito - you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?

Brat (the entire series) by @shellshocklove - joel is having a brat summer.

The Right Kind of Wrong by @myownwholewildworld - your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it?

October's End by @salingers - a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller.

that's the way road dogs do it by @joelsdagger - on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past.

wherever you stray, i'll follow by @cavillscurls - Joel resents the choice to allow an unmated omega into Jackson—until he’s the only one who can help her feel at home.

absolution (the entire series) by @pedgito - Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

positions by @hellishjoel - You and Joel mutually pleasure each other while “researching” porn.

hook em (series) by @joeloverture - trying to get back at your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you right into the arms of his coach. you plan on staying there for a little while.

Dave York:

let them feel by @guiltyasdave

Notes On Tutoring by @honestly-shite - Mr York becomes your new classical guitar tutor in your final year at music college. A dark, mysterious man, you struggle to get a read on him but that doesn't stop you from finding many ways to push his buttons. You manage to infuriate him with your stubbornness and forced complacency but there is definitely something else too. There's a pull that you feel whenever he is near. You wonder if he feels it too.

Javier Peña:

Unscripted Desire (the entire series) by @gothcsz - you’re a camerawoman that shoots pornos. javier peña is the pornstar you can’t stand. why is it that you’re always so affected by him?

When in Positano by @honeyedmiller - honeymooning in italy with your husband is a dream, especially when he reveals he wants to start a family with you.

three's a crowd by @amanitacowboy - you hadn't been with a woman for years, but for javi? you would do anything he asked and more

helping hand by @mrsmando - you and javi take a bath together.

Marcus Acacius:

Acta Non Verba by @myownwholewildworld - scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

Shadows of the love under the laurel by @stylesispunk - In the shadows of the Roman Empire, you, a devoted servant, discover love with the honorable General Marcus Acacius. You both navigate the treacherous current of social expectations when a looming marriage comes to risk everything.

Prima Nocta by @fuckyeahdindjarin - Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

Dieter Bravo:

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk - What began as a publicity stunt turns into much more than you expected.

bouquet by @mypoisonedvine - being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

salt, shot, lime by @freelancearsonist - You meet your celebrity crush in a bar; he turns out to be a lot more fun than you expected.

Lucien Flores:

Mutual by @luxurychristmaspudding - you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.

Fortnight by @pedgito - it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

Azalea by @morallyinept - A man from your past shows up at a party and leaves you on the cusp of making a life changing choice. Do you stay, or do you leave with him?

Frankie Morales:

Listen by @luxurychristmaspudding - you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel.

End Up Here by @undrthelights - you’ve had a distaste for frankie for as long as you can remember, so how did you end up here?

Din Djarin:

New Perspective by @mellowswriting - teaching the infamous Mandalorian to slow down and enjoy life isn't easy. it takes planning, patience - and silken sheets apparently.

just can’t say goodbye by @saradika

Ellie Williams:

make a woman out of me by @pearlcigs - you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

too little too late by @elleloquently - " can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time / I can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

Infiltration by @astralnymphh - your suspicious encounter has given ellie her five minutes and her knife—but can she truly measure insincerity?

Abby Anderson:

hers only by @abbyshands - gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?

good luck, babe! by @studioghibelli - your boyfriend has been cheating on you. when you confront the woman he’s been seeing, she offers you a proposition.

don't fuck your coworkers by @untitledgf-pdf - you're a server and abby is a line cook

Eddie Munson:

please, please, please by @/keeryhours - Eddie is no stranger to the Hawkins legal system. It’s no surprise to anyone when he’s dragged in cuffs again, but it is unexpected when someone catches his eye - the police chief’s daughter.

COME AGAIN by @mediocredreams - When you go to your best friend for dating advice, his perverted ways come in handy.

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart (Are Harder to Hide Than I Thought) by @andvys - A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever.

smoke me out by @strangerstilinski - you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends?

#gracieheartspedro fic recs #fic recs #joel miller #dieter bravo #javier pena #din djarin #frankie morales #abby anderson #ellie williams #eddie munson #lucien flores #pedro pascal #gracie’s fic recs #EVERYONE IS SO TALENTED GO READ!!!

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touchoffleece · 10 months ago

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I myself don't care much for placing either canon or fanon over each other (since if I did I could never enjoy "rarepairs" that happen to be of the same sex as much as I have), but in this case trying to argue Supernatural and Destiel hold the same importance and weight as the first Gundam Female lead being: POC Queer Disabled & Neurodivergent is not it. But hey, I think this overall is good for western audiences who only partake in live action to broaden their horizons and us all to want to raise our standards for what a lot of entertainment media here in the USA want to put out in terms of "representation" for the lgbtqi+ crowd.

The drama around the Tumblr ships bracket is so funny because there are Supernatural fans legitimately arguing that queer baiting they based their entire personality on and got nothing in return somehow trumps an almost 50-year-old franchise building itself around an interracial lesbian couple, it being a huge hit and not only never being bait, but ending in marriage.

#this #mood #hollywood desperately needs change #lgbtqi+#representation matters #sulemio #destiel #gundam the witch from mercury #g witch

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starrluvs · 1 year ago

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the facesitting drabbles, ughhhhhh could you possibly do one with johnny cage & kenshi too?? doing gods work fr <3

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 + 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

cw: afab reader, oral (fem receiving), facesitting, established relationship, mentions of kenshi's tower ending

wc: 749

a/n: omg my second anon request! yall are already making me so happy, and i hope i delivered properly! and i wasn't expecting these facesitting drabbles to get so much attention, but tysm!! also my asks are still open, so feel free to request something! im in desperate need of ideas 😭

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄

johnny was always adventurous when it came to trying new things in the bedroom. but when he asked you to sit on his face, you weren't too fond of the idea… what if you accidentally ended up hurting him? with a bit of (classic johnny cage) sweet talk, you reluctantly agreed.

and you were very fortunate for giving in to him eventually because you felt as if you were on cloud nine. johnny always had a pleasure for pleasing partners, so he’s gone down on you multiple times before… but the feeling of literally having your pussy all over his face like this was certainly something transcendent.

all your worries were washed away as he worked his tongue inside of you, desperately trying to reach in as far as he could. johnny’s actions made your eyes roll back in pleasure as you let out a string of moans along with his name.

the actor chuckles underneath you and decides to change things up, relishing in all the reactions you offered him. his big hands secured a strong grip on your hips as he helped you ride his face at a steady pace.

you feel your clit occasionally bump on his nose, followed by the flat surface of his tongue collecting all your juices as he helps you rock back and forth above him. the feeling of him stimulating your core started to become overwhelming as that familiar coil starts to bubble up inside of you.

you grab johnny’s hair and an incoherent warning escapes your lips, trying to tell him you were close– but it proved to be useless as he felt your thighs spasming around his head. the actor grins as he looks up at you and lets you ride out your high with his tongue.

he could tell you finally washed away that worry of ‘hurting’ him once you looked down at him with lust filled eyes– your lips slightly parted as you were catching your breath. his well kept brown hair was now a disheveled mess and your slick was smudged all over his face.

your beloved hollywood star looked like a work of art.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈

gaining his new occupation with the outworld investigation agency meant kenshi became a very busy man. he knew how much time he’d have to put into this and he knew he couldn't always be there to coddle you. however, when he did get the time to make up for his absence, he knew how to properly deliver.

his apology this time around resulted in you sitting on top of the ex-yakuza’s face with his tattooed hands roaming all over your breasts, hips, thighs, ass, everything– all while his tongue licked fat stripes up your pussy.

your thighs felt like cushions around his head, and the warmness of it made him feel like he wouldn’t mind taking a load off from work and staying trapped beneath you forever. his tongue was warm and his occasional strikes against your clit were sharp and steady, making your head spin.

trying to hold back your moans, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, causing all your sounds to come out muffled. much to the swordsman's displeasure, he bites your inner thigh and makes you yelp. knowing better than to test him, you whine and remove the back of your hand, allowing your noises to come out freely.

despite kenshi still being able to see in his own way with the guidance of sento and his ancestors, he had learned to deeply appreciate his sense of sound (and taste, in this position) ever since he was blinded. the ex-yakuza relished in your sounds much more than he used to before the events that transpired in outworld.

muttering out an apology to him, kenshi smirks and dives back into your heat. his hands rest on your ass as he squeezes it and ushers you to grind harder on his face. you don't disappoint– grinding messily over his mouth while he attempts to catch it all with his tongue had you moaning in delight.

you missed this, you missed him– the feeling of his tongue hitting angles inside of you that nobody else could. the feeling of his hands gripping at your flesh, urging you to chase your high. hell– even the feeling on his stubble scratching against the inside of your thighs and your puffy lips down there…

and fortunately for you, kenshi had no intentions of letting you rest tonight.

#johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #johnny cage smut #kenshi takahashi smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

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Propaganda

Greta Garbo (Camille, Anna Karenina, Queen Christina)—Enigmatic and alluring and made me bisexual. The perfect example of the eroticism in silent films that literally transcends text. Could literally not change anything about her expression but you knew by looking at her eyes what she was thinking. She’s so gorgeous.

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Garbo:

A cold-ass Swedish WLW Sphinx. Had plans to murder Hitler that she never got around to. "She will remain always a child of vikings, moved about by a snowy dream."

First of all, she's on the money; that's how much of a treasure she is. She's beautiful in such a distinct way you need very few lines to draw her. (Drawing by Einar Nerman) She managed to be mesmerizing in both silent and sound films. She kissed a woman in Queen Christina (and probably several more in real life). She was super dry and really funny in Ninotchka. She got the hell out of Hollywood and stayed out, living for almost 50 years after her retirement.

Garbo is one of the many reasons why I'm gay. If you haven't seen Queen Christina please do, She is so gender in that film. Also her accent makes it sound like she's always talking in cursive and it's so hypnotic (or at least I think so).

She's a gay introvert, like all of us here on Tumblr.

Probably a lesbian, absolutely a mood when she retired

Mysterious and aloof, charismatic and enigmatic, with beautiful androgynous characteristics, Garbo is undoubtedly the most eccentric and unique Hollywood vintage star. Her aversion to fame and stardom makes her even more desirable to the audience, and her insane chemistry with the camera, an actress one of a kind! Her particularity and her oddity is what discerns her strongly from her hollywood co workers at the time, noone was like her and would never be like her. I think, to the utmost extent, that she deserves the title of the hottest vintage star, even though that would be an understatement of what she is!

SO gorgeous, her thick Swedish accent makes will turn your brain into pudding

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

youtube

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #greta garbo #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

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‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 23 - 'Flowers and Fixing' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.3 k

When you stepped back into the house, the weight of everything you’d just done with Trent came crashing down on you. You barely got the door shut before your knees gave way. Jack turned around from the couch, his face lighting up with a sympathetic smile, ready to console you after what he thought would have been a long night of sorting things out. But when his eyes met yours, his expression changed instantly. You broke into sobs, your body trembling, unable to hold yourself up any longer. The sound of your heartbreak filled the room as you fell to the floor, and Jack sprang up, rushing to you. His strong arms caught you just before you hit the ground, pulling you tightly against him.

“Nah, nah, nah. What happened, Y/N?” he whispered, his voice laced with confusion and worry. His hands cradled your head, smoothing your hair as your sobs wracked your body. He held you as if he could physically keep you from falling apart. You couldn’t find the words immediately, choking on your tears as you buried your face in his shoulder. Jack waited patiently, his arms never leaving you, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe, yeah?” But it wasn’t okay. Nothing felt okay.

“Jack…” Your voice broke, and your words came out in pieces between your sobs. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.” Jack pulled back just enough to look at you, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What do you mean? What happened?” He was trying to piece together why you were in such hysterics. He’d left you with Trent, thinking the two of you would reconcile, work through whatever tension had built. Instead, you were here, utterly shattered.

“I tried… I tried to make him…” You paused, struggling to get the words out. “I tried to make him treat me like Josh did.” The confession hung heavy in the air, and Jack froze, his heart breaking for you.

“Y/N…” he started softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but you interrupted him, your tears streaming even harder.

“He tried to love me the way I needed, but I didn’t know how to let him.” You shook your head violently, the weight of the truth crushing you. “I tried to force him into something he’s not, and it hurt him. It hurt me.” Jack’s grip on you tightened, his own emotions threatening to spill over. Jack didn’t totally understand what happened but he knew Trent was nothing like Josh.

“He’s not Josh,” he said firmly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And that’s the whole point, Y/N. He loves you. He’s never going to treat you like that because he can’t. He’s not wired that way. And thank God for that.” You nodded weakly, but the guilt still consumed you.

“I ruined it, Jack. I’ve ruined everything. I can’t do this—I don’t know how to do this.” Jack cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him through your tears.

“Listen to me. You didn’t ruin anything, okay? You’re hurting, and you’re scared, and you’re still trying to unlearn what he did to you. But Trent—he’s not going anywhere. He loves you, and you love him. That’s all that matters.” His words broke something inside you, and you sobbed harder, your hands gripping his shirt as if it were the only thing tethering you to the ground. Jack held you tighter, rocking you slightly, his own tears threatening to fall as he whispered, “You’re going to get through this, Y/N. I promise you. You’re not alone. Not with me, not with Trent. We’re here, and we’re going to help you heal.” You cried into his shoulder, the weight of his words slowly settling into your heart but not enough to heal it.

“He has a video…” you sobbed unrelatedly, your voice trembling with panic as you tried to explain it all to Jack. Each word came out fragmented, as if saying it aloud made it all the more real. “Josh has it… I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared, Jack.” Your chest heaved as the sobs overtook you, and your breathing became uneven, shallow. Jack’s face darkened, but his voice remained soft.

“I know,” he whispered, his hands running up and down your back in a futile attempt to comfort you. “I know, Y/N. T told me.” He hushed you. He didn’t love that existed but he in no way was faulting you for the way Josh was acting and in no way wanted you to feel like this. You gasped, unable to compose yourself, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of everything crashed down on you again.

“I don’t want to do this,” you cried, clutching at his shirt like a lifeline. “I’m hurting everyone. I’m hurting him, I’m hurting you—I can’t stop it.” You weakly whined.

“You’re not hurting us,” Jack soothed, but his words couldn’t break through the tidal wave of guilt pulling you under.

“I can’t have him, Jack,” you choked out, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. “And I’m hurting him anyway. He doesn’t deserve this. I can’t do this to him.” Jack’s heart broke watching you crumble.

“You didn’t hurt him, Y/N. You’re not the one doing this—Josh is. And Trent? He wants you. You can have him. Please don’t push him away because of what that asshole is doing to you.” His voice cracked slightly, his own emotions bubbling to the surface. He’d never seen you like this. After your mum passed you got notably less emotive. When you did crack, you cracked but this was like nothing he’d ever seen. Your whole body shook. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he tried to ground you. But your mind wouldn’t stop spiraling.

“You said it yourself,” you whimpered, your voice so small, so broken. “I’m just someone Trent is taking advantage of.” You explained sort of unfairly but you weren’t thinking straight. You were twisting words in an effort to convince yourself or maybe hurt yourself. Nothing made sense. Jack’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? No, I didn’t—” He tried to defend himself, not for his own sake, but to get you to understand that wasn’t what he said. He initially had said the word trying to protect you. He didn’t think Trent actually had and even less so now in light of everything.

“It’s all the same!” you cried, cutting him off. Your voice broke as you continued, your words drenched in anguish. “Josh, Trent… I thought he was different, but when I gave him the opportunity, he did the same thing, maybe I’m just fooling myself. Maybe he’s just using me like Josh did, and I’m too stupid to see it. So fucking stupid. And I let him touch me. He’s going to be just like him.” You cried. Jack felt like he was trying to play catch up. Your thoughts were moving so fast and they were so intense he could barely follow but he knew two things for certain; Trent was not Josh and Trent loved you, something Josh never did.

“That’s not true,” Jack said firmly, his hands still holding your face as he forced you to look at him. “You know that’s not true. Trent loves you, Y/N. You’re not just someone he’s passing the time with, or someone he’s using. He would never do that to you.” He explained.

“But Josh…” you started, your voice trembling.

“Josh is a piece of fucking shit!” Jack snapped, his voice louder than he intended, but he softened immediately when you flinched. “Josh is nothing like Trent. And you know that. You’re scared, and I get it, but don’t let that bastard ruin this for you. Don’t let him ruin you.”

“I can’t… I can’t let him have that video,” you whispered, shaking your head as fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. “He’ll use it. He’ll use it against Trent, and I can’t let that happen to him. I won’t let that happen to him. It’s all my fault.” You attempted to take a deep breath to try to fill your lungs but it was dry. It did nothing to relieve the pounding in your head. Jack’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts flaring.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, his voice resolute. “You’re not in this alone. We’ll figure out how to deal with Josh, but you can’t push Trent away because of him. You love him, Y/N. Don’t punish yourself for that.” Your shoulders shook as you broke down again, the weight of Jack’s words both comforting and overwhelming.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” you whispered.Jack pulled you into his arms again, holding you as tightly as he could without hurting you.

“You don’t have to fix it alone,” he said softly. “You don’t have to do anything alone anymore.” He shut his eyes tight, trying to fight back tears. He so often spoke to your dad filling him in on how you and he were doing. That he had handled finding that doctor for you, that flight ticket you needed, bought you dinner, drove you home, and yet… none of it mattered, it wasn’t enough. How had he missed this. You were in so much pain. He thought he was taking care of you all this time but in reality you were being dismantled. You were hurting. His heart was in pieces, his stomach in bits, he couldn’t believe just how hurt you really were. "Y/N…” He gently spoke. “What happened tonight? I don't understand," Jack said softly, though his voice carried the weight of his concern. His body tense as he watched you unravel in front of him. Your shoulders shook with sobs, your face buried in your hands as though you were trying to shield yourself from the world-or from him. You looked up at him, your tear-streaked face trembling with emotion.

"Jack... please, just listen, okay…." you whispered, the words cracking under the weight of your sorrow. "I know you don't want to hear this. I didn't want to... I didn't want to do it. I don't even know how it happened." The lump in your throat making the words nearly impossible to get out. Jack frowned, leaning closer as if that could somehow bring you back to him, back to a place where you could breathe.

"I’m not going to be mad, alright…” He sighed feeling guilty for treating you so harshly when this all first kicked off, not knowing how brutal it all had been, how fragile you were. He wasn’t going to get mad anymore, he just wanted to help his little sister. "Tell me," he urged gently. "Whatever it is, you’re okay. I’m here." You shook your head, the words trapped in your throat. When you finally forced them out, they came in a rush, messy and jagged.

"I was crying... and then it just happened. I didn't stop it, I begged. I don't know how to stop it anymore," you admitted, your hands trembling in your lap. "It's like... it's like I don't even know how to feel anything without pushing it all down. And we had sex, Jack. We had sex, and it felt wrong, and it felt... right at the same time, but I wasn't there. It was so cold. I wasn't with him. I was just-" Your voice broke, and you covered your face again, your shoulders heaving with each sob. You remember feeling like you were not in that bed. Feeling like you were sitting in the corner watching yourself get defiled. You couldn’t feel his hands on you no matter how bad you wanted to. Not the hands you knew at least. It was like all you could feel was the hurt you were creating. Your body moving off instinct and panic fighting to survive. His skin was against yours but it wasn’t close enough. You couldn’t feel his warmth because you had turned off completely. It was harrowing and you had forced his hand. Jack stayed quiet for a moment, his face unreadable as he tried to process your words. "I'm sorry," you whispered, choking on the apology. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't even be telling you this. I just... I don't know how to fix me." You whimpered feeling a million things at once, one of them right now; embarrassment. You felt like a broken doll. You felt like you had hoodwinked Trent into liking this character, this girl next door, who he flirted with at his best mate’s movie nights and yet now, when he got you alone, when he got to love you, got to see you, there was this terrible broken marionette in place of that once cheery girl.

"Y/N," Jack interrupted softly but firmly. He shifted slightly so there was some distance between you, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as though trying to steady himself. "Please. Don't stop. Just tell me. I need to understand." You let out a shaky breath, your eyes darting away from his.

"It was just so automatic," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "The way I was with Josh. I don't even think about it anymore—it just happens. And Trent..." You hesitated, your voice cracking again. "He's so good, Jack. He's so good, and I just-" You couldn’t get the words out.

"You what?" Jack pressed, his tone gentle but insistent.

"I pushed him away," you confessed, your voice trembling with guilt. "I pushed him away emotionally, and then I pushed him to do something he didn’t want to do... I tried to fix it with sex. I treated it like a transaction. I forced him to do it. I can't imagine it's anything different. That I'm anything different because he did it. Am I just someone he has the upper hand with? Is this all just some huge mistake?" You muttered, getting confused by your own thoughts. Jack's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. "And now," you continued, your voice growing more frantic, "I've hurt him. I've hurt everyone, and I'm making it worse. I'm making it worse, and-" You gasped for air, your tears choking you as you clutched at your chest. "And Josh wouldn't even have that video if it weren't for me!"

"Y/N, stop!" Jack's voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp but filled with anguish. You froze, your eyes wide as you looked at him, your breath hitching in your throat. Jack leaned forward, his voice dropping to a softer, more pleading tone. "Y/N, it's not the same. Do you hear me? It's not the same." He reached for your hands, gripping them tightly as he looked you dead in the eyes. "He loves you. Trent loves you. You are not just some object to him. You're not just some... thing he has control over. You're so much more than that to him, Y/N. You have to trust him. Please, just trust him."

"But what if-" You shook your head, the tears spilling down your face.

"No," Jack interrupted firmly. "Listen to me." His voice cracked, his own emotions bubbling to the surface as he tried to reach you. "I get it, okay? I don’t totally understand why you feel like this because it breaks my heart that you do but I get why you think you have to do this. We have to get you out of this cycle, Y/N. You’re good. You need to know you’re good. But you can't keep acting like this with him. This has to go both ways. If you don't want him to take advantage of you, then don't give yourself away like that." Your tears fell harder, your sobs filling the room as Jack's words hit you like a wave. "You're not an object, Y/N," he continued, his voice breaking as he tightened his grip on your hands. "Not to him, not to Josh, not to anyone. You're more than that. You don't have to trade your body for love or forgiveness or anything else. I know that’s easy for me to just say but seriously…” He sighed, his heart hurting so much he needed a moment. “Trent doesn't want that from you. He just wants you. All of you. The real you. The messy, scared, broken you. That's all he's asking for. But you've gotta give him the chance to love you without you pushing him away or trying to control everything.” You collapsed into him, your body shaking as your sobs wracked through you. “You don’t deserve to be hurting like this.” He muttered more so to himself but you heard it. “He loves you, I love you, Dad loves you, Layla loves you, Noah loves you, Meg does… I could go on. Please, you’re so loved and for none of the reasons you think. We love Y/N, just as she is. I’ll do everything I can to get you to love her too." Jack wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as though he could somehow piece you back together with the strength of his embrace. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his chin to the top of your head. "It's okay, Y/N. We'll figure this out. You're not alone in this. I promise." The room fell quiet except for the sound of your breathing, slowly steadying as Jack held you. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe him. Just for a moment, you let yourself believe that you could find your way out of the darkness-with Trent, with Jack, with the people who loved you.

The door creaked open a few days, and Jack stood there, looking at Trent with a mix of uncertainty and hesitation. He hadn’t shaved, his shirt wrinkled, like he hadn’t slept. He held the door slightly ajar, not quite inviting Trent in yet.

“Hey, bro. Thanks for coming over,” Jack said quietly, his voice lacking its usual confidence. Trent stood on the porch, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes carried a weight Jack had never seen before. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries.

“She alright?” Trent asked, though he already knew the answer. When you left Trent’s house that morning he felt a hollowness he didn’t even know was possible. He knew what you were doing was self destructive, that you were hurting yourself but he let you go, that’s what you wanted, he’d always do what you wanted. Jack let out a slow, shaky sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“Mate… I don’t even know what to say. She’s…” He trailed off, searching for the right words but coming up short.

“She’s hurting,” Trent said, filling in the blank with a quiet certainty that made Jack pause. Jack nodded, stepping aside and holding the door open wider.

“Yeah. She’s upstairs. But…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not sure she wants to see you. She’s saying all this stuff—how she’s ruining everything, how she’s hurting everyone. It’s like she’s convinced herself she’s nothing.” Jack explained with a blank stare. He listened to you sob on the floor the other day and he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. He felt so naive that he didn’t know you felt this way. A part of it was circumstantial, the video and such, but the majority of it was deeply rooted emotional issues. Trent’s jaw tightened, and he nodded as if to steel himself.

“I need to see her. I’m going to fix it.” Trent explained, fairly dead pan. It wasn’t so much confidence as it was determination. Jack gave him a skeptical look, folding his arms across his chest.

“Look, T. I don’t know if you can fix it. She’s… she’s messed up right now. And you two—whatever it is you’ve got going on—it’s complicated, yeah?” He gave Trent a wry smile. Jack didn’t want to hurt you anymore or throw fuel on the fire but he was drawing a blank at what to do. Still, he was hesitant to let Trent up to your room, despite inviting him over. In theory it felt like a good idea. Jack hadn’t left the house since you came home, neither had you but you also hadn’t left your bed either. He’d seen only you for days and you were so broken and weak. It was only now seeing Trent did it register, did he become aware of even the simplest of the power dynamics you were facing. He never thought much about it, til this moment. He had watched you almost deteriorate in a matter of days. You were so fragile, almost beyond repair and in walks a strong, nourished athlete… It felt scary. Like if Trent even got close he might break you. He didn’t want to inflict that on you. But Trent’s gaze didn’t waver.

“She’s the love of my life, Jack. Complicated or not, I’m not giving up on her. I don’t want her to feel like this anymore.” He reassured your brother. Jack blinked, taken aback by the raw honesty in Trent’s voice. He studied his friend for a moment, then sighed, stepping fully aside to let him in.

“Alright. But just… be patient with her, yeah? She’s… She’s fragile, mate.” Jack told Trent. It was a soft warning but he meant it. There was a change in Jack’s demeanor that he immediately identified. He’d seen it many times. Jack would tease you relentlessly, push you in the pool, steal food off your plate, put you in a headlock; he treated you like he was your big brother. But there were times, not often but they’d happen, where Jack treated you like he was your big brother in a completely different way. He was soft spoken, gentle, aware, he’d buy you flowers when you were sick, he’d pick you up when you needed a ride, he’d give you a cuddle when you needed one. There was a softness that not many people saw in Jack that he reserved solely for you. To a degree, Trent understood it. He was a big brother too after all but there was a gentleness that needed to be present with a little sister that he’d never experience. Jack was cautious with word choices, knowing you’d cling to every word. His hugs were never aggressive or fast, he’d hold you until the tears stopped. There were elements of your relationship that were just more sensitive than anything. You and Jack didn’t forgive and forget, you had to fix and maintain. Trent wanted to protect you just the same as Jack did but the love he felt for you would always be slightly different. Something he had to learn overtime. Growing up maybe some might’ve been able to perceive the way Trent treated you to be like that of a little sister for a bit, you were forcibly close because of Jack’s friendship with him, neither of you ever complaining, but there was a clear turning point for Trent. A period in time where a young boy had to distance himself from you because it became abundantly clear he had a different type of feeling for you then he did about anyone else. He liked you. In fact, he loved you. While everyone had to wait for moments at school to see their juvenile crush, you were omnipresent in his life. He didn’t know it was happening but it made him like you more than the other girls. He got every angle of you. He got to see you completely raw. A way that only Jack got to see but Trent had been there under that roof too. There was just something vulnerable about you you needed to protect.

Trent remembered going to your mum’s funeral. It was the first funeral he’d ever gone to. He didn’t know what to expect. He’d lost someone too. Someone who drove him home from footie, made him special pasta because he didn’t like the one everyone else was having, got him birthday cards and presents each year, a mum he didn’t even know he had.

He and Jack spent almost every day together but there weren’t many opportunities to talk about the way they felt, their emotions. Trent could see Jack begin to struggle though as your mum's condition began to worsen. Innocently, he never really imagined that you could actually lose her though. Not then. Even you and Jack, no matter how many counselors or conversations were had, you were not prepared. Maybe subconsciously, Trent saw it best fit to be the release in Jack’s life. Be the person he got to laugh with, be stupid with, run around, play games. It was the only thing he could contribute and he did it well. But at your mum’s funeral, it was the first time he saw Jack in a gentler light. Jack was never mean to you but teasing occurred and complaints were made but he’d never really registered what Jack was to you, and you to him until you lost your mum. You walked in and you both looked stoic. Shells of yourself, his eyes narrowed on your figures trying to recognize two people he knew so well. The service began and from behind, he watched as your body began to shake. You began to slip, overtaken by emotion. He watched Jack reach to you and hold your hand. It was soft and secure. He'd never seen Jack move so gently. Things only got worse from there. As the day progressed, he saw you sob hysterically into Jack’s chest in the corridor. It was an image seared into his brain forever because as he heard you crying, he also watched silent tears coursing down his best friend's cheeks. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t change things. It changed your entire life, altered the way you and Jack interacted with people forever, the dynamic between you all but it also made a massive impact on how Trent viewed you and Jack. What it felt like when Dianne had to make your birthday cake now or when he and Jack were in school and told to write Mother's Day cards. It shook him. He felt like he never wanted you and Jack to ever have to lose anything else because this one loss had already been too much. It shattered your family.

Jack was worried. Subconsciously, he worried that Trent wouldn’t know how to handle you in a state like this. How to handle his little sister. Trent didn’t have a sister, how would he know? He sighed though because of everyone in your lives, all the friends, and family, Trent was the only other person who truly understood that there was more to you; the layers you so neatly hide, how truly sensitive and fragile you could get. Trent’s focus was already shifting to the stairs.

“I know, Jack. I’m careful with her. But I’m not letting her keep pushing me away. It’s not what’s best, It’s not what’s going to help her.” He explained.

“Alright, then we’re on the same page,” Jack muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes met Trent’s, and for a moment, they stood there in tense silence. Jack could see the desperation etched into Trent’s face—the fear, the guilt, the love—but it didn’t soften the protective instincts rising in his chest. “Mate, I need her to be okay,” Jack began, his voice shaking slightly but resolute. “You… you can’t fuck this up, yeah?” He pleaded.

“I know,” Trent said immediately, his voice steady. “I won’t.” Jack clenched his jaw, his arms crossing tightly over his chest.

“Nah, listen to me. This isn’t like before. I mean this. You cannot hurt her, bro. I’m fucking serious. I would never forgive you. I mean it—I’d kill you if you made her worse.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the emotion he was trying to contain. Trent’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Jack, I get it. I know this has been hard on you, but… I’m here. I’ve always been here. I’ve taken care of her before, and I’m not stopping now. I just want her to stop hurting. I just want the tears to stop.” Trent spoke. Jack’s jaw tightened, his protective anger clashing with the sincerity in Trent’s voice.

“You gotta swear to me, Trent. On your life. You’re going to take care of her, properly. No more bullshit. No more pushing and pulling. You’re either all in or you leave her alone. She needs help mate and I’m not letting her get worse than it already is.” Jack looked desperate. He was threatening but it wasn’t coming from a place of anger, at least not anger towards Trent or you. Jack was just hurting and angry you were in the state you were in and he was praying Trent was just the same.

“I’m all in,” Trent said without hesitation. His voice was soft but sure, his eyes unwavering. “I swear, Jack. She’ll be safe with me. I’ll protect her with everything I have. I promise you that.” Jack’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hands twitching at his sides. For a moment, he just stared at Trent, searching for any crack in his resolve, any hesitation. But he found none. Finally, Jack let out a slow breath and nodded.

“Just… please,” Jack whispered, his voice raw. “Please don’t let her fall apart any more than she already has.” Trent had rarely seen the type of sheer fear in Jack’s eyes.

“I’ve got it, mate,” He said softly. “I swear. I’ve got it.” Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, the tension broke. The two boys who had grown up side by side but had rarely shared words this honest embraced. It was quick but full of unspoken understanding. “I’ve got it, bro,” Trent repeated, stepping back and looking Jack in the eye. Jack swallowed hard and nodded. Trent nodded back, his throat tight, and turned toward the staircase. Each step felt heavy, the weight of what he was about to face pressing on him. Jack watched him ascend, his heart aching as he silently prayed Trent would be what you needed, his chest tightening. As much as he wanted to protect you, he could see that Trent wasn’t just another person in your life. He was someone who was willing to fight for you, even when you couldn’t fight for yourself.

“T… hi…” you whimpered, your voice small and shaky as Trent stepped into your room. You weren’t expecting to see him, at least not in your room. Your heart began to pound. You were supposed to go to Megan’s birthday party tonight. You’d gotten dressed but you weren’t really sure if you were going to be able to make it out the door. Layla and Jack had convinced you it’d be good to get out of the house. No pressure, but they just wanted you to come. It was a fairly relaxed party but nothing about it felt that way. The sight of Trent sent a fresh wave of emotion surging through you, undoing the fragile composure you’d barely managed to maintain so far today. You sniffled, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of the skirt you were in as you perched on the bed. It was a part of a set, [index ref] paired with a little matching bra top from Sau Lee. You liked it when you bought it but now it felt too tight, the sequined fabric itched against your skin, none of it was right. The mirror in front of you reflected someone who looked put together, but inside you were crumbling. Megan’s small party at a restaurant was supposed to be a distraction—but you weren’t sure you could face Trent there tonight. You weren’t sure you could face him here, either. Fully dressed, you suddenly felt completely bare.

“Hi, my pretty girl,” Trent greeted softly, his voice laced with tenderness. His smile was gentle but sympathetic as he crossed the room to you. “You look so beautiful.” You sniffled again, your lips trembling as you tried to fight back the tears threatening to spill over.

“You still think so?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“Most beautiful girl in the world,” he murmured, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You tilted your head up to look at him, your watery eyes meeting his. The hurt behind his deep brown gaze was unmistakable, and it made your chest tighten painfully. The tears you’d worked so hard to stop came spilling over, and your face crumpled as you broke down. “Ah, come on… don’t cry, baby. Please. C’mere,” he whispered, his own heart breaking as he watched you fall apart again. Without hesitation, he sank onto the edge of the bed and gently tugged you into his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you buried your face into his shoulder, your body shaking with silent sobs. He held you close, his large hands running soothingly up and down your back. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped against his shoulder, your voice muffled.

“For what, baby?” he asked softly, his tone full of concern as he shifted slightly to hold you even closer.

“For everything. For being like this… for messing everything up,” you cried, pulling back just enough to look at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Hey, hey. Stop that,” he said gently, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “You haven’t messed anything up. I promise. You’re just… you’re going through it right now, and I get that. But you’re not alone, yeah? I’m here.” You shook your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have to be.” You whined. Trent’s jaw tightened, and he cradled your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t do that. Don’t push me away because you think it’s what’s best for me. What’s best for me is being here with you. You’re the love of my life, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?” The intensity of his words made your breath hitch, and you stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and guilt.

“I’m so broken,” you whispered.

“You’re not.” He cooed softly, completely disagreeing with you. You muttered a barely audible "I am’ and he sighed. “Then let me help you put the pieces back together,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” His words wrapped around your heart like a balm, and you collapsed into his chest again, your arms tightening around him. He held you close, rocking you gently as you cried. “Y/N…” His voice broke, and the sound of it shattered something inside you. “I didn’t mean—God, I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did the other night. I’d never… I wasn’t—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply as he ran a hand over his hair. He needed to try to tell you he didn’t like the sex you two had without saying that he didn’t like the sex, because he did… but he didn’t. It was bigger than that. “I just want to do this the right way, to make sure you feel safe with me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” You pressed your lips together, guilt clawing at you as his words sank in.

“I know,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. I pushed you.” you sniffled. You felt so guilty. You didn’t want to hurt him when all he’d ever done, not even just since you’d gotten together, no, your entire life, was be good to you. You’d spoken about it a number of times with Jack and Layla since that night; varying degrees of how much intimate details were included of course. Jack was being supportive but you didn’t want to scar him. Nevertheless, you agreed that Trent was nothing like Josh. He couldn’t have been further from it because Trent didn’t shy away from you. He didn’t shut you out, he didn’t shut you up, he just was there for you, every time, just like he was right now. But the hurt in his eyes was almost too much to bear. You didn’t know how to be there for him when you were the one hurting him.

“Then why would you say that, baby? Why do you try to push me away?” His voice was hoarse, the pain evident in every syllable. He just wanted to understand. Was right now ahead of potentially going to a party the best idea? No, but it had to happen. He wasn’t doing this anymore, any longer.

“I’m scared,” you finally confessed, the tears breaking free. “I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared of Josh. I’m scared of ruining this. And I don’t know how to fix it. I just…” You trailed off, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe away your tears. Trent’s expression softened instantly, and he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Hey,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You don’t have to fix it. We’ll figure it out together, yeah? But don’t push me away. Please.” You nodded against him, your tears soaking into his shirt as his words began to soothe the storm inside you. “I love you, Y/N,” Trent whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.” The room was silent except for your uneven breaths for a moment.

“But what if he—” you started, but Trent cut you off, his hands gripping you gently but firmly.

“No,” he said, his voice resolute. “Josh doesn’t get to control you. He doesn’t get to scare you, or hurt you, or take anything from you ever again. I won’t let him. You’re safe with me, baby. Always.” You wanted to believe him, but the weight of your past made it hard. Still, the way he looked at you—with so much love, so much determination—made you feel like it was hard to accept the fact that you felt like your own determination to be loved wasn’t as strong as his desire to love you. It made you hate yourself.

“I don’t think I know how to let you love me without losing myself, giving myself up to you,” you admitted, your voice cracking just as you feared it would. “I don’t know how to be lovable, to be loved by you.” Trent closed his eyes briefly, as though steadying himself. When he opened them again, they were glistening, his emotions barely restrained. He shifted slightly, wrapping you in his arms more securely, cradling you against his chest.

“Baby,” he murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head softly. “You don’t have to know how. Let me do it for you. I’ve loved you for so long and that’s never going to change. I’m going to keep loving you, no matter what, please just try to let me. I’ll be here, loving you, however long it takes. I’ll show you, over and over again, that you’re safe with me.” His words broke you completely. You clung to him, sobbing into his chest, your tears soaking his skin. He didn’t mind. He held you tighter, his hands stroking your back, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple.

“I love you,” you choked out between sobs, the words raw and honest, filled with the fear and hope you carried.

“I love you so much.” Trent’s arms tightened around you, his voice trembling as he whispered. Despite the broken pieces still scattered inside you, his love felt like the glue trying to piece you back together. But then, in swift succession, like an old habit you’d never be able to kick, you leaned up to kiss him. Your lips met his magnetically. You felt your whole body relaxed feeling his perfect plump lips against yours but the moment of bliss was cut short because as you relaxed more you felt Trent’s body tense. You were doing it again. You were pushing him. Yes, you had just reconfirmed you loved each other but you were still crying, weak, broken, and he didn’t want to push it, not like this, not yet. You could feel him grapple with the kiss. The realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you broke away from the kiss, your breath coming in short gasps.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, pulling back. Trent shook his head immediately, his hands cupping your face.

“No, don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. You just… You don’t have to give me anything to make me stay. I’m already here. I’m not going anywhere.” His words sent a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face, and you collapsed against his chest, sobbing. Trent wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as he could without hurting you. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered, his lips pressing against your hair. “Together. You don’t have to hurt anymore. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be perfect or have it all figured out,” he murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I just want you to let me love you the way you deserve. That’s all.” He told you earnestly. The sincerity in his words broke something inside you. His gaze searched your face. You looked back at him watching hope poole in his mahogany eyes..

“Why do you love me like this,” you whispered, tears spilling freely now. “I don’t understand.” You genuinely couldn’t comprehend why he loved you. You were very aware of all the things that made Trent a good partner, an attractive partner, the things that made him a person someone would want to be with. You though? It didn’t make sense. So often you felt overlooked, glanced over, never enough and yet Trent was steadfast, adamant that he loved you, that you were more than enough.

“I will make you understand,” Trent said firmly, his hand coming up to cradle your face once more. “ I love you that much, yeah?” You nodded hesitantly, leaning into his touch as the distance between you finally began to close. Not the physical one, the emotional chasm that Josh had wedged. He held you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, you felt it—the tiniest glimmer of hope that maybe you could tear down the walls and build something new.

"Thank you," your voice cracking. Tears welled in your eyes, his heart ached at the sound and sight of your pain.

"We just can't fix it like that," he said gently. "But we can figure it out, baby. Together. I just need you to trust me." The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn't empty. It was filled with all the things neither of you could say yet, the unspoken promises and the lingering wounds that would take time to heal.

“I do. I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Your voice cracked under the weight of your confession, your chest heaving as tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. Trent’s face fell, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and understanding.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing, is wrong with you.” He cooed. You blinked away your tears looking back at him, his face steady and grounding even as your world felt like it was spinning. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Your face pressed into his chest, and the faint, familiar scent of him—comfort and warmth—washed over you. It was enough to break whatever fragile dam you’d been holding together, but not in the way you thought. He broke it to repair it. Trent was so willing to fix this, fix you. The tears came fast, hot and heavy, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as your body shook against his.

“I don’t know how to be enough for you when I feel so broken.” You whimpered, your voice muffled against his chest Trent’s grip tightened, his hand stroking the back of your head gently.

“You don’t have to know, baby. You don’t have to do a thing,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to your turmoil. His words made you cry harder, and he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to physically seal his promises into you. “I hate that I can’t take away things that have happened to you, I wish I could but I love you just as you.” You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face streaked with tears. He looked at you and paused. You looked like a little girl and his heart hurt seeing the face of the girl he grew up with staring back at him, imagining telling that little girl all the things that would unfold and happen to her, he hated how awful all of them were. It was an ache in his chest he didn’t know what to do with. His own eyes glistened with unshed tears as he stared back at you, his gaze soft and full of love.

“And you’re sure?” you asked, your voice trembling. He reached up, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from your cheek. He sympathetically smiled but it was broken.

“I could not be more sure. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. You are the most important thing in my life. You’ve been in every part of it. And I don’t want any bit of my life, not to have your imprint.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are it for me, pretty girl. It’s always been you, and it always will be. I don’t care how hard it gets, I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.” His words hit you like a tidal wave, and you collapsed back into his arms, clinging to him like a lifeline. He held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head as he swayed slightly, the two of you finding some kind of rhythm amidst the chaos.

“I love you,” You whimpered. He closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek as he kissed your hair again. You stayed like that for what felt like hours, the world outside fading into nothingness as you found a moment of solace in each other’s arms. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t fix everything, but it was enough for now. Enough to remind you that even in your brokenness, you were still worthy of being loved. And that Trent was willing to fight for you, even when you weren’t sure how to fight for yourself.

“So, so beautiful. You know that?” Trent cooed, his deep voice warm and tender as he studied you. His hand brushed softly against your cheek, his thumb wiping away the remnants of tears. You managed a weak smile, but the fear still gripped you tightly. He noticed it—of course, he did.

“Can you wait right here for me?” he asked gently, his tone careful not to startle you. “I want to get you something quick.” The moment he shifted, the fear flared up in your chest. You couldn’t stop it. Despite everything he’d said, despite all the ways he’d tried to reassure you, you were terrified. Terrified that if he left, he wouldn’t come back. That this fragile connection between you would shatter. You didn’t trust your voice, so you only nodded, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you watched him move you to sit on the bed and walk out of the room. The silence that followed felt endless, like each passing second was stretching out into infinity. You wrapped your arms around yourself, squeezing tightly as if that alone could keep you from unraveling completely. And then, after what felt like forever—but was barely five minutes—you heard the soft sound of his footsteps approaching. When Trent stepped back into the doorway, your breath caught. He looked so perfect, so steady. The very sight of him brought a rush of relief so overwhelming that the tears you’d been holding back spilled over once again. He stood there for a moment, smiling softly, a bouquet of pink peonies cradled in one arm and a small shopping bag in his hand.

“No more tears with me, hmm?” he said as he walked towards you, his voice low and soothing. He held out the bouquet, the delicate flowers an explosion of soft color. “These are for you,” he murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he crouched in front of you. You sniffled, reaching out with trembling hands to take them. The petals were soft beneath your fingertips, and the sweet, subtle scent filled the space between you.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you pouted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s expression softened even further, his eyes searching yours as he set the shopping bag aside. He cupped your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

“Because you deserve to be treated nicely,” he said simply, his tone so earnest it broke something in you. “I gotcha, baby. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.” His words, so sure and so full of love, pulled a small, shaky nod from you. Your lips parted, but the only sound that came out was a quiet, trembling ‘okay.’ He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he whispered against your skin.

Trent sat on the bed beside you, his posture casual but his gaze intense. One leg was propped up on the duvet, his knee bent, bringing him closer to you. He reached out, his fingers slipping under the delicate strap of your muted yellow bra top, tracing the fabric lightly against your skin.

“Look so good in this,” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning.

“You like it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to ground yourself. The outfit you had painstakingly chosen for hours suddenly felt like an afterthought, all but forgotten the second you saw him tonight. He hummed appreciatively, his warm eyes never leaving yours.

“So, so much.” For the first time that night, you allowed a shy smile to play at your lips, but it quickly turned into a curious glance at the Dior shopping bag still sitting now at his feet. “Did you know what bag you were going to wear tonight, though?” He asked you with a bit of a tease, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. You blinked at him, your cheeks heating up. Yes, of course, you had a bag picked out—it had been part of the outfit planning you’d obsessed over. But the bag he brought in suggested he had something else in mind.

“I did,” you admitted with a little giggle, “But… Do you have something else in mind?” You asked already starting to feel different, hopeful maybe. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower.

“I do. Want to open this for me?” He asked handing you the bag. The tears that had stained your cheeks moments earlier now felt distant as a giddy warmth spread through you. You wiped away the last remnants of them, nodding eagerly as you reached for the bag. Inside was a box, you opened it tucked in a dust bag was a pristine Mini Lady Dior bag, unlike anything you’d ever seen. It was white satin, embroidered with a dazzling multicolored floral beaded pattern. The intricate details shimmered in the light, catching your breath. But what caught your eye immediately was a single butterfly, its delicate wings stitched among the floral embroidery as if it had landed there by chance.

“T…” you whined, your voice cracking as your eyes welled with fresh tears.

“Like it?” he chuckled, his fingers brushing gently over the butterfly, tracing the intricate design before turning his gaze back to you.

“I love it,” you whimpered, holding the bag like it was the most precious thing in the world. Your voice trembled as you added, “I love you.” Tears spilled over again, but they were different this time—happy tears, overwhelmed tears. “Thank you,” you whispered, clutching the bag to your chest. Trent smiled softly, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

“Anything and everything for you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Always.” In that moment, the chaos of the past few days faded just a little. Trent wasn’t just a person who gave you gifts or reassured you with words—he was someone who saw you, who understood you deeply. And as his forehead pressed gently against yours, the world outside your room felt miles away.

The car ride stretched on as Jack furiously tapped away on his phone, muttering under his breath about potentially adding a stop. He hit directions on the map, his phone chirping directions, and you couldn’t help but grin at his reluctance, knowing full well he was looking for a florist because of you.

“Y/N,” Jack began, his voice exasperated but laced with a begrudging fondness, “I already got her flowers on her actual birthday. Why are you making such a big deal?” He quipped. You leaned forward slightly from your seat in the back, your expression soft but firm.

“Because, Jack,” you started, “It’s rude not to! Birthday flowers are the bare minimum. This isn’t news to you! This is Megan’s party. It’s a big deal. Showing up with flowers tonight says you’re thoughtful, that you’re still making an effort even after her actual birthday. It’s about showing her you care.” You told him. Jack groaned, tilting his head back against the headrest. From the front passenger seat, Noah let out a loud laugh, turning around to look at Jack as he selected another florist along the route on his phone to see if this one might be any less disruptive to your ride.

“She already knows I care. Do I really need to buy more flowers to prove that? We’re halfway there. already” He explained.

“Jack,” you replied, your tone dripping with mock impatience, “you’re literally sleeping with her. The least you can do is show up with something to say, ‘Hey, I value you more than sex.’” You chirped from your seat tucked nicely in Trent’s arms sitting impossibly close to him. You and Trent didn’t want any space from each other. The ride to Megan’s was no exception.

“She’s got a point, mate. Don’t be an ass. Just bring the girl some flowers.” Noah piled on. Jack shot him a glare in the rearview mirror.

“Mate, you gotta get flowers… It matters. You care, show her that.” Trent interjected from beside you, his voice calm and steady as he rubbed lazy circles on your thigh through your yellow sequined skirt. You hummed nuzzling your face into Trent’s neck. He smirked at the affection before leaning in to kiss your hair. “It’s like what? 500 p max, mate. Just do it.” Trent attempted to rationalize with him the cost. Jack let out another groan, his head dropping forward dramatically.

“Five hundred fucking pounds!” Noah repeated,his voice rising in disbelief as he turned fully to face you and Trent. “Where the fuck are you buying flowers from, bro?” He fell into laughter. “Unreal, absolutely unreal. Y/N, you’re robbing him blind!” Noah teased.

“It’s probably not actually 500 pounds,” you shot back with a laugh, shaking your head at his dramatic response. You didn’t actually know that but from the types of bouquets you were receiving as of late, he wasn’t exactly just picking up flowers from a local shop for twenty quid either. You hoped they weren’t that expensive but then at the same time, they definitely were. You could tell by the cheeky grin on Trent’s face. “But if you want her to love you back, you have to do these things, Jack!” You pleaded with him. Noah’s eyebrow raised with a teasing grin at the mention of the world ‘love.’ Jack grimanced at your call out. Trent chuckled softly beside you, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly.

“She’s not.” Trent kissed your hair again reassuring you and Noah that you weren’t robbing him. You giggled shyly hiding in his neck again. “It’s not the money; it’s the thought, lad.” He added. Noah rolled his eyes dramatically, smirking as he leaned back in his seat. “Flowers are fundamental to a relationship.” Trent explained further. Noah rolled his eyes once over at Trent’s sudden uptick in wisdom on relationships.

“Yeah, so is a fat bank account,” Noah retorted, his tone laced with amusement and a little laugh Jack finally cracking, falling into laughter too.

“Look, Megan and I are not in a relationship though. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m not trying to be rude, I got her gifts and flowers, we’ve done her birthday together already.” Jack weakly tried to explain.

“Jack!” You scolded him. He needed to take things more seriously with Megan and a birthday was the time to do it. “Maybe you should change that relationship status sometime soon. That’s what I’m trying to say.” You shrugged.

“It’s 500 p bro, or whatever you pay but you can’t expect to go home with her tonight if you’re not going to stake your claim when you walk in.” From the corner of your eye, you caught Trent’s smirk. He leaned down to press a quick kiss to your temple, his lips warm and reassuring. “It’s about doing something nice, showing you care… Letting all the lads that are there know that’s your bird.” He said casually, leaning back against the seat with an air of smug confidence.

“That’s not why I’m going tonight,” Jack shot back defensively.

“Sure, mate,” Trent teased, earning a laugh from Noah.

“Jack, just buy the flowers,” you chimed in, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. From the front seat, Noah twisted around to glare at you. He thought this party was too far away, and he told Megan that teasingly criticizing her choice of location. He was getting restless now. Noah didn’t have a great attention span nor patience and adding a stop wasn’t really sounding all that great to him. You threw him a cheeky middle finger. He turned back around with a grin. Frankly, he was just happy you were happy. You all were in one car and no one was crying and that was significantly better than the last night out.

“Five hundred p is fucking ridiculous.” Noah laughed still in disbelief. Before he could say anything more, you leaned forward and flicked the back of his ear to get him to shut up, making him yelp in surprise. Jack needed to show up with flowers. He didn’t need Noah talking him out of it.

“Ow! Fuck right off.” Noah whipped his head back towards you as he rubbed the shell of his stinging ear. “You’re a thief by the way.” He shot your way with an accusatory finger. You shook your head in disagreement before he turned back around. Jack, still unconvinced, let out a long sigh as he finally found the best and most optimal florist along the route. If he was going to stop, he had to find a place worth it.

“Aye.” Trent quipped at Noah and before you could even add anything more, Trent reached forward and flicked Noah’s other ear, smirking as he leaned back against the seat. Not letting Noah bother you, even if it was merely a joke. Noah yelped dramatically again and turned to swat at Trent.

“This is so dumb,” Jack grumbled, tapping away at the screen.

“It’s not dumb,” you countered, your tone light but insistent. “It’s romantic. And if you don’t do it, you’re sending the message that you don’t care enough to make an effort.”

“Hey, how about you both fuck off, you melt.” Noah shot back at Trent, his ears turning red, crossing his arms as he slouched in his seat. “You’re all just melts.” Noah muttered, shaking his head in mock disbelief. You giggled. Jack groaned again as the car turned a corner, the GPS leading you all now to a quaint little florist tucked away on a quiet street.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll get the bloody flowers,” he muttered, throwing open the car door as soon as it stopped. You leaned back into Trent, a triumphant smile on your face as you watched him stomp off towards the shop.

“You think he’ll actually pick something nice?” Trent asked, his voice warm and teasing as he pulled you closer into him.

“He’d better,” you replied, smirking. “If not, I’ll have to go in there myself and pick them out.” Moments later, Jack returned to the car, a bouquet of vibrant pink flowers you knew Megan would love in hand. He opened the door and slid back into his seat with a huff.

“Happy now? Now we’re gonna be late.” he grumbled, holding up the bouquet for you to inspect.

“Very,” you replied cheekily, grinning widely.

“Unreal,” Jack muttered, shaking his head as the car started again. “I hate all of you.”

“But you’ll have flowers,” you sang, unable to resist one last tease.

“And you can go home with her in good conscience.” Noah mocked your sing-song tone. You rolled your eyes. Trent leaned forward acting like he was going to flick Noah again. Noah jumped in a panic attempting to get away from him. Jack kissed his teeth, ignoring all three of you as Trent burst into laughter, Noah quick to follow, your own giggle unable to stay down, the sound filling the car as you got back on your way to the birthday.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 24 - Parties xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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touchoffleece · 2 years ago

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Honestly what I was hoping for considering that unless it's unanimous support from non-rich-folk-with-fingers in all the pudding in Hollywood, the CEOs running the companies would try and wait out the strike until writers had to come back or they would rely on scab writers. I don't know for sure if this will mean the CEOs will stop being shit bosses to the writers, but it's a good moral boost that something will progress with improving pay.

Strike is on. Actors will be joining the writers on the picket lines. This is the first strike in 60 years for SAG, and essentially shuts down the entire US film and television industry.

#wga #sag aftra #wga strike #sag strike #wga strike 2023 #sag strike 2023 #hollywoods desperately needs to change #history

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fairyminnie444 · 2 months ago

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+ 𝓟𝓞𝓢𝓣𝓢 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָָ࣪☾.࣪˖ ִֶָ

“fake it till you make it” “act like it” “feel like it”

𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

“It’s impossible”

Manifesting is internally shifting

Persistence is not a struggle

Algorithms x manifesting

difference between believing and knowing

ACCEPT that it is simple, ACCEPT that it is easy

My sucess stories 2

How I removed the existence of my neighbor of my reality

Why does physical change literally happen? 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫: 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐰

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘓𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝

make manifestation inevitable for you

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥.

> LOCK IN < IN PRACTICE

You never procrastinated

INERTIA METHOD

Methods Serve You, Not the Other Way Around

The I AM state

Consciousness is always objectifying itself.

Stop comparing yourself and understand that it’s you

it’s time to see EVERYTHING IN YOUR FAVOR RIGHT NOW

If you are dissatisfied with your present expression of life, then you must be born again.

You are the main character of your life.

+ 𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓢 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָָ࣪☾.࣪˖ ִֶָ

hey i wanted to ask about feeling it real and detachment

hey i need some advice of how to manifest going viral on tiktok and instagram

manifest getting better at some activity if you imagine yourself practicing in your imagination

negative thoughts/beliefs

how to manifest something if I can't distract myself from not having it?

not to worry about the 3D but i see my SP every single day and it gets hard.

Manifesting something impossible unrealistic

manifest flawless skin, freedom from dietary restrictions, and perfect health

sometimes my self doubt gets in the way is there anyway I can stop that

recently i have been really struggling and just unable to manifest whatever i want even tho i want

manifest being a famous hollywood actor but im genuinely scared of the industry

Manifesting a younger version of my celebrity sp

self-concept is the foundation of everything you desire.

The task: A challenge to prove your power

Persist for a year and 3d didn’t conform

Help to revise my grades

How do I make peace with the idea of living infinite lives or multiple lives?

Tips to manifest confidence

so i manifested a 93% on two exams and i got my grade back, and both of them are below it any idea what i did wrong?

I have a question about manifesting a skill, and i would really love ur advice on it plz.

I’ve been trying to manifest my SP back right now I feel so tired and I’ve half given up.

How to enter the alpha state? - How can we know that we are alpha state?

I'm just confused on how I should be identifying in the now moment in my imagination

how can I get rid of anxiety?

any advice on how to stop being so impatient?

I’d like to imagine and feel my desires but my mind doesn’t want to cooperate

whenever i'm trying to affirm, my intrusive/random thoughts keeps popping up every time and it throws me off.

I dont undersstand.3d has to obey me.why i dont see instant results.or its all abt me

How do I let go of the past?

Do you believe in birds before land? What advice would you give to someone who is bored with everything and wants to live the life they deserve

Why can some people manifest their dream life overnight whereas some people struggle for years?

really desperate rn cause i feel like my sp is no longer interested in me

I don't know why my mind still doesn't pass my assumption as a fact.

I lost something very important

Can you explain what resistance is and what causes it?

do you have advices on ignoring the 3D?

how do I know if I’m in the void or not?

How to enter SATS instantly ??

How do we eliminate internal resistance, doubts, and limiting beliefs to manifest in just one day?

what to do when my mind goes : why are u acting like this

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starcrossedxwriter · 8 months ago

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Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??”

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide.

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.”

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute.

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??”

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.”

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.”

“I’ll go.”

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable.

Raven.

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something.

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room.

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood.

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.”

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone.

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse.

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight.

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.”

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain.

What the fuck does that even mean?

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off.

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?”

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment.

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ”

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him.

“Where’d everybody go?”

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed.

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?”

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.”

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep.

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped.

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.”

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside.

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments.

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in.

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her.

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming.

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word.

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…”

“You… you came?”

“I heard you needed a date?”

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could.

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent.

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away.

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…”

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted.

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.”

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him.

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?”

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled.

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly.

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob.

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air.

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath.

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.

“We need 10 minutes.”

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away.

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.”

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him.

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants.

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head.

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too.

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off.

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right?

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to.

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head.

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in.

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.”

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time.

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.”

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again.

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it.

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.”

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself.

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter.

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone.

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior.

“You always got jokes.”

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave. Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be.

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her.

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.”

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting.

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. .

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?”

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.”

“That’s a given, baby girl.”

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms.

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket.

“Nope.”

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him.

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.”

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing?

“Michael�� You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?”

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.”

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?”

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?”

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it.

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.”

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.”

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs.

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat.

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be.

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.”

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly.

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears.

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready.

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show.

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything.

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it.

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this.

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.”

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.”

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be.

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her.

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd.

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.”

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.”

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care.

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there.

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing.

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career.

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad.

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest.

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.”

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.”

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career.

“How long have you been up?”

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.”

“Why didn’t you wake me??”

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”

“I’m good.”

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes.

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved.

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change.

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.”

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.”

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.”

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.”

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day.

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again.

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.”

“What if I like watching you sleep??”

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too.

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could.

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.”

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?”

“So you got wasted? To forget?”

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.”

“How often?”

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”

“And now? How do you feel?”

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.”

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please.

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him.

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level.

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes.

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.”

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.”

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.”

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start?

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck.

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone.

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet.

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.”

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.”

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way.

“You trust me, baby?”

“With my life,” she answered truthfully.

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold.

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.”

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was?

His poor sheets, she mused.

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her.

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most.

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized.

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did.

Bliss.

Ecstasy.

Fucking nirvana.

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured.

He did not let up or come up for air as his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded.

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust.

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest.

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure.

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs.

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly.

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away.

He immediately stilled.

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?”

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure.

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her.

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life.

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind.

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders.

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it.

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human?

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion.

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close.

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough.

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him.

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress.

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted.

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her.

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up.

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his.

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together.

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned.

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.”

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.”

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.”

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.”

“Very mischievous but effective.”

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered.

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.”

“Deal.”

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again.

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again.

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii #fic: wicked fantasies

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ammoniteblue · 8 months ago

Text

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.2)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

At first the baseball card was left on your bedside table. But as you realised that night, after getting back from Mr. Ozami’s Ramen Shop, you couldn’t sleep with it so close to you. If you opened an eye you’d see it, sitting there atop the table. Then all thoughts of sleep evaded you. It was almost impossible not replay the events of the night over and over in you mind.

Kenji. His easy grin. The way his jacket hung just right off his shoulders.

so like any coward, you hid it. Pushed into a drawer crammed full of notebooks and stray pieces of paper. You left it there in your office, hidden within your desk and finally managed to sleep.

For two days the card sat in that drawer, hidden, out of sight out of mind.

Why an ordinary schmuck like you wasn’t jumping at the chance to call a legendary athlete like Kenji Sato you would never know. A million girls would kill to have his number and yet you….you couldn’t even bare to look at it.

But why ?

For those two days you did nothing but watch old reruns of his games. Ones of him in America, playing for the LA Dodgers, all dressed up in white and blue. He wore that same easy going smirk when he played too. Like he knew no matter what that he’d win.

Something in your keened for that kind of confidence. Most people would be jealous of Kenji for his wealth, his fame….his good looks. Not you. what you wanted was his confidence. how, when millions of people were watching him, did he look so carefree ?

Kenji was right. Maybe he’d just make a baseball fan out of you yet. When watching his reruns got boring you changed to interviews. They were always solo, usually him and some pretty female reporter.

A nasty green feeling curled up in your stomach as you watched the way he chuckled and smiled, tilting his head in an easy but flirty manner.

Arrogant asshole. Stupidly hot arrogant asshole.

On the second night your older sister called. she never rang your phone, always the landline. nobody ever used it and most of the time you forgot it was there until Ami rang for your weekly catch up.

She didn’t live far, only thirty minutes on the metro, but with her full time job as a reporter and status as a single mum she was usually busy. Of course you went over to help whenever you could, but lately you’d been avoiding her and therefore Chiho too.

You couldn’t admit to your powerhouse big sister, who had it all, that your book had been a flop. that you and Sana were desperately trying to secure a movie or tv show deal in hopes of recuperating your losses.

Yes a show or movie would put you on the map, give you the status of a serious author, but it would also mean some hollywood exec tearing your baby apart and turning it into some dark, sexy CW series.

Your heartwarming story of a boy’s struggles through adulthood, as he comes to terms with his new powers and what they mean, made into the next Riverdale. You’d rather die.

Oh the shame.

“Y/N you need to call back mum, she’s worried about you.” Immediately Ami is hounding you over the phone.

with a sigh you respond, “yes Ami, it’s nice to hear from you too.”

“we’re just worried about you. lately you’ve been so distant. we miss you. Chiho misses you, she keeps asking where her auntie is.” Her words cut straight to your heart.

A pang of guilt hits your stomach as you imagine Chiho’s sad wide eyes asking where you are. That was a dirty move on Ami’s side.

“Things are just…” you scramble for an excuse, “busy. yeah i’ve got some book stuff and…..and there’s this guy.”

wait what ? why the fuck did you say that ?

“a guy ?” your sister asked.

oh shit well no going back now.

“um yeah a guy. he’s nice ?” you almost sounded questioning.

there was a pause before Ami made a sound of excitement.

“That’s amazing Y/N ! i’m so happy for you. you’ve got to bring him over, mum would love to meet him. we all would.”

you knew that was code for “as your big sis i need to vet this guy and make sure he’s good enough for you”.

two minutes later and you found yourself promising to bring this mystery guy over soon along with returning your mums anxious calls.

“we love you Y/N, please don’t forget that.”

After she hung up you sat there for a minute. It was dark out and if not for the light from the TV the living room would’ve been submerged in complete darkness. Another interview was playing, an old one. Kenji couldn’t have been older than 20. A college graduate recruited to play baseball full time. He looked so happy, the kind of energy only young people have. when they’re still full of hope, before the world has smashed it into pieces.

once upon a time you looked like that. maybe in those weeks just after your first book deal. fresh out of university and the promise of bright career in writing.

As you watched him, you replayed the conversation with your sister over in your head. she’d sounded so worried. they both did, her and mum. something had to change. you needed to do something, anything to fix this funk you’d fallen into.

maybe that’s why you walked out of the living room and into your study.

The desk drawer slid open easily and inside the baseball card gleamed up at you. You reached in, picked it up and then grabbed your phone from your back pocket.

Ten digits later, your phone rang and after several seconds of intense silence there was a voice.

“Hey Kenji speaking.” It was him, really him. “umm hello ? if this is that guy from the gossip magazine then please f-“

“It’s the girl from the ramen shop, Mr. Ozami’s.” You quickly interrupt.

Kenji goes silent, the threat dying on his tongue.

“Oh.” Is all he says.

“Yeah.” you mumble in response.

Theres another awkward silence.

“So…” He starts

“So…” You repeat.

For an international heartthrob, Kenji Sato is surprinsgly not that smooth. Just like you he’s unsure of what to say, and for the first time the baseball icon seems a little human to you. it’s what gives you the confidence to speak first.

“I watched some of your games.” You try, unable to fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.

was that weird ? was admitting you’d watched him play weird ?

There’s a laugh over the phone that puts all your worries to rest.

“Really ? i thought you said you didn’t like baseball ?” He asks, amused.

“Oh i still don’t, but i wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” You respond boldly, almost flirty.

“And ?” He prompts.

from over the phone you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“And i thought you were pretty good.” You can’t help the smile that pulls at your mouth as he makes an unbecoming noise.

“pretty good ? i think you mean the best babe.”

oh. OH.

Suddenly the pyjamas you’re wearing felt too tight, too hot. you slipped off the couch and padded over to a window, opening it to let in a fresh night breeze.

“I-I mean,” you try to school your voice, “sure you’re good but the best ? that might be a stretch.”

Oh good lord why did you say that ? Why was your go to defence insults ?

“Well if you need some proof why don’t you come to a game ?” His proposition catches you completely off guard.

“a game ?” you’d never been to a baseball game.

how much were the tickets ? You weren’t exactly very liquid right now. yes the advance on your latest book had been quite a lot but with it not hitting its sale targets you’d had to make a few setbacks. no excessive shopping, no eating out - Mr. Ozami’s was an exception - no travelling. A baseball game sounded expensive. could you afford the tickets ?

“Yeah, i’ll send you a ticket,” and then cockily adds, “don’t worry i’ll make sure you have a good view.”

You breath out a small laugh. It was a tempting offer. A free ticket, the chance to experience something new and watch cute men run around a field in tight pants. What was not to like. Maybe this was what you needed to get you out of that funk.

“Okay,” you found yourself responding, “that would be nice. thank you.”

there’s a chuckle over the phone and like that you figure the call is coming to an end until Kenji adds:

“But on one condition.”

So close.

“What’s that ?” You try to sound normal.

“You let me take you out.”

three days later

The new Tokyo Stadium was a magnificent piece of architecture. it had only opened a few months ago but you’d yet to see it. with a book tour and signings and fan events you hadn’t had the time to walk around the city like you used to.

Dressed up in your nicest pair of jeans and a Giants jersey you’d bought just for this game, you joined the back of one of the ticket booth queues.

Kenji had sent you an E-ticket right after your call. since then whenever you went onto your phone you’d checked to see if it was still there. the sight of it was a confirmation that this was real. the Kenji Sato had not only given you his number, invited you to a game but had asked you out on a date. you turning up to this was basically confirmation that yes you wanted to go.

A date with Kenji Sato.

What was happening to your life.

Since that night you’d itched to call your sister, to tell her what was going on. But you couldn’t. Ami was so practical, she followed her head over her heart. if she found out she would tell you to drop it. that Kenji Sato was a known flirt who was scared of commitment and would leave you high and dry. He wasn’t the dating type. Not at least according to the hundreds of magazines and articles you’d spent the last few days reading.

it was all there. his long, slightly hazardous, dating history. models and musicians. beautiful women with no body fat and immaculate skin. the kinds of girls that you see online or in magazines. you couldn’t be further from them.

What on earth did Kenji Sato see in you ? A small time author with a minor online following and, according to one very cruel article in the Tokyo Post, a dying career.

Ami would tell you to quit while you’re ahead, before you’ve gone on a date with this guy and inevitably let him charm you into submission.

But Ami wasn’t here and you were in too deep now.

The lady at the ticket booth scanned your ticket and then you were in. it was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The stadium rippled with noise. hundreds of thousands of fans filled it, filing into seats, calling out for hot dogs and beers from the uriko girls.

like you many people wore Giants jerseys. Children and women and men. some had orange face paint strewn across their cheeks.

suddenly you felt less self conscious about the jersey you were wearing. nobody would glance at you and think you’d never been to a game before let alone not know a thing about the sport or rules.

it took you a while to find your seat. you walked further and further into the stadium, eyes scanning the rows for the letter A. it wasn’t till you were right at the front that you found it. to your surprise, your seat was just above the dugout, giving you a clear view of the home plate.

not only had Kenji Sato bought you a ticket, he’d bought you maybe one of the best seats in the whole place.

There was a buzz in your back pocket. you reached for your phone.

enjoy the show

Kenji.

As you stated at the message, biting back a grin, a sudden chorus of cheers shook the stadium. around you people had jumped to their feet, hoisting posters and foam fingers high into the air. the people next to you, a little girl and her mum, were jumping up and down in excitement. the little girl held a poster in her hands and with one quick glance you realised it was of Kenji.

You turned to look at the field and suddenly it made sense. There waltzing up to the home plate was the man himself.

Kenji Sato.

His white jersey gleamed in the midday sun. the number seven printed on the back in big block lettering. a baseball bat hung almost carelessly in his left hand. you were sure that under that helmet he was wearing the most obnoxious grin possible.

The Kenji Sato show was live.

As he strolled up to the home plate, he turned to wave at the crowds. what a showboater. it worked though. another round of cheers rippled through the crowds, so loud it almost made you wince. the little girl was nearly crying with excitement next to you.

You cheered along too, a little unsure of yourself. it wasn’t like you’d ever done this before. Then to your absolute horror, Kenji Sato glanced across the crowd until he locked eyes with you.

Had he been looking for you ?

He must have, because as soon as he saw you his grin grew even bigger. a look of absolute smugness. He gave you a once over, something unmistakable flashing across his face as he saw the jersey you were wearing. it had been a coincidence, you picking out the number seven jersey. Until now you hadn’t realised it was his jersey. did he think you’d done it on purpose ?

Oh my god he did.

There was a self assured smirk on his face as he gave you one last look before turning to batter up. An almost unnatural silence fell over the stadium. everyone waited with baited breath, about to witness for the first time Kenji Sato batting in the Japanese League.

The pitcher swung his arm back and the ball sailed through the air.

To your surprise and everybody else’s Kenji missed. The ball went square into the catcher’s mitt. You’d watched enough of his games to know Kenji rarely missed a ball. maybe it was nerves ? His first game on a new team, in a new country. anyone would be nervous. But then he missed the second time and from your seat you could catch the way his hand flew to his shoulder, as if in pain.

Then the catcher said something, what exactly you couldn’t hear. But judging by Kenji’s reaction it wasn’t anything good. You watched with wide eyes as the batter levelled up to the catcher, his bat almost held like a weapon. The pair were almost chest to chest until the umpire stepped in. there was a final heated exchange before Kenji returned to bat. Then to everyone’s surprise he swapped sides, changing to his right hand to bat.

A series of quiet murmurs, sceptical and surpised words, rippled through the crowds. Did this not happen often ? You weren’t entirely sure what was going on. But judging by the confused looks around you Kenji was about to do something unprecedented in baseball.

All you could do was watch as the pitcher made his final throw. the ball flew through the air. the silence had never been thicker, and then with a speed so intense you nearly missed it, Kenji swung the bat back. there was contact. an almost cracking sound and the ball was sent soaring into the opposite direction.

the crowd roared with approval. the noise shook the stadium and to your surprise you found yourself up on your feet cheering along with them.

“Go Kenji !” You cried, almost jumping up and down as he ran each base.

A victorious grin had broken out on his face, and as he returned to home base he glanced up at you. Suddenly you felt self conscious stood there, hands in the air your cheeks flushed. But then he winked at you and something electric and light and fluttering soared through your chest.

He was incredible.

And then the Kaiju appeared.

is she the queen of cliffhangers or what ?? stay tuned for part three !! also if people are confused about why the reader seems to contradict herself a lot it’s meant to show how she’s an unreliable narrator, and like can’t see that she’s doing better than she thinks.

#ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman

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touchoffleece · 2 years ago

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For real, look into who owns what news media companies and most of the time it'll lead to one of these big names that are named on the strike list.

#PSA #signal boost #misinformation #hollywoods desperately needs to change #capitalism hellscape #fitting I go from gundam the witch from mercury content to reading about capitalistic conglomerates being evil #g witch #gundam the witch from mercury #we live in a society #brain rot

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fhrlclln · 7 months ago

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it started in hollywood | the ghoul

SUMMARY -> after 200 years, after the bombings, after everything went to shit, the ghoul still had one thing in his mind that never left him, it was his family. it was you. his star wife.

the ghoul/cooper howard x wife!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> fluff & angst

WARNINGS -> typical fallout violence, vault-tech sucks, cryo shit, poor lucy, radroaches, swearing, emotions, you’re his wife, drugs (chems duh)

WC -> 4.08k

a/n: so fAWK I FORGOT TO POST THIS anyways, so i’ve fallen for walton goggins and of course the ghoul hence a fic!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

underneath the scorching sun of the wastelands, the ghoul stares ahead at the vaultie ahead of him that’s walking limply that’s bound by his lasso. the sand underneath his feet is a pain in his ass feeling the grains go inside his shoes every step he takes but it was a treck. all went to shit when this particular vault-dweller got the head of his bounty eaten by a fucking gulper and destroyed his vials trynna not be eaten by it, and now he’s running out of his chems which was a total shit indeed.

yet he stills keeps living on as usual. just a lot of shit that’s going on.

lucy huffs out a breath out of her chapped lips, dehydrated and legs sore from walking a mile. the rope wrapped around her waist wasn’t helping either and neither was the scorching sun shinning brightly over head either. her vision was starting to get blurry but she could see they were nearing abandoned pre-war buildings. she glances behind her, seeing the ghoul still walking cooly, coughing a bit but still looked like he was still holding up which annoyed her. she sighs, walking a bit more, hoping maybe the ghoul would have a change of heart and maybe they’d settle down at some abandoned building there and rest for a bit— and maybe a chance to escape and continue on her quest to bring back her father.

lucy huffs as they halt for a moment. the sound of splashing water catches her ear as she glances back again to see the man holding a canteen as he screws it open and chugs the water down. she stares at it, panting, her mouth salivating at the sight of water.

“sir…” she pleads, “sir, please, i need water… please.” she begs as the ghoul momentarily stares back at her and eventually ignores her as he continues to drink. her brows furrow, desperation gnawing inside her. “please.” she rasps, more loudly. the ghoul doesn’t say anything as he drinks then emptying out his canteen once he’s done. precious water droplets wasted as a mockery to the poor girl. lucy stares at him with disbelief as the ghoul unsheathes his shotgun as he gestures for her to walk. the poor girl obliges, not wanting to get a bullet to her head as they continue on until lucy’s pip-boy rad meter suddenly triggers. her footsteps halt as she turns to where it was indicating radiation to a puddle of water in which her eyes hunger at until the ghoul spoke.

“water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” he says casually. “ain’t much stays clean here, vaultie. you’ll see.” he warns.

“is that what happened to you?” she huffs. “radiation?”

“something like that.” he answers as they continue the walk, passing by a large vault-tec advertisement. lucy looks at it, a sign of determination for her remembering her dad and her vault. a gunshot rings as the face of the vault boy is shot right clean. she quickly glances at the ghoul, seeing he was the one who shot it.

he lowers his shotgun, staring at the holed face, anger seeping in him silently. distain for whatever vault-tec shit he sees. they continue on yet the cold silence from the ghoul can be felt all the way. he hated that fucking corporation, ruining his fucking career, sending him into a downward spiral all because he trusted that woman. but amongst all he fucking hated was how not only his career went to shit in hollywood, he hated that he got his wife involved in it.

ah, hollywood. his thoughts run to there, a distraction for the walk. he wasn’t one to dive in much in his memories, past was past, but dammit was the past the only thing that maybe kept him sane. because after all, it all started in hollywood.

when he met you.

his hand dives down in his inner pocket of his duster, fishing out something. his hand grips a worn-out photograph, one he got along his travels exploring the worn out california crest studios, back when he was fresh from this awful new world he awoke to after the bombings. a small photograph of you. one he ripped out of a picture frame out of desperation from a studio. you were a star, a known actress back then, known for your bombshell status and numerous romantic films you’ve been in. and known for being his wife as well thereafter.

cooper howard’s star wife.

he remembers it clearly, meeting you for the first time behind set when he got casted for one romantic film he did for the first time, as only a side character. he was fairly still new in the industry back then before his big breakthrough and you were already big in name. you were the female lead and his heart immediately knew from then on that he was in love with you from the first meeting. you captured his attention and everyone else but he was smug enough to say that he caught your attention, and the rest was fucking history.

the ghoul stares at his precious photograph, gently caressing the worn out picture with his thumb. the one thing that kept his sane. a numbing feeling encapsulating him as he forces himself to look away, focusing now on the present. he tucks it back in his pocket, right inside his chest pocket, above his rotting heart. it wasn’t the time to grieve now, he spats in his mind, he has shit to deal with.

the walk continues on, the ghoul could tell they were passing by studios seeing a lot of tour buses surrounding the area. they past through it on a route to another road in where the ghoul’s destination is. he coughs, a little more hoarsely as suddenly the vaultie in front of him stops and stares at something.

“what you starin’ at, vaultie?” the ghoul tugs his lasso harshly as lucy yelps at that as she glares at the ghoul before he turns his head to take a look at what the smoothie halted their walk for. his eyes slightly widened and his radiated heart stops momentarily at the sight before him.

it was you.

you, on a life-size poster, holding an appetizing cold nuka-cola bottle, smiling brightly as ever with your signature red lips and perfectly styled hair. the poster was a bit shredded and dirty but it still had the picture of you still intact than his photograph that he stares at it now. the same old fluttering yet sentimental feeling filled his hollowed chest as he takes a step to get a good look on your face, that face he dreams of everyday. memories started to flood in and he remembers this very advertisement that you had done. heck, he was even behind the camera, watching you from the set when you posed for nuka-cola, being the it girl that you are.

lucy is confused at the sudden silence the ghoul gave as he stares at the poster she was staring at on a while ago. she knew you, she was even a fan of you after watching numerous movies of you back back when she was still in the vault. was the ghoul a fan of you as well? she thinks as she opens her mouth to speak.

“big fan of her?” she asks yet the ghoul doesn’t answer her for a moment, still staring at your poster. but hearing your name made him feel something, something he hadn’t felt since forever.

“you know her?” he asks back which surprises lucy expecting he’d shrug her off or tug his lasso again and tell her to get a move on.

“y-yeah, loved her movies. always watched them ever since i was a kid… with my dad.” lucy says, surprised at the sudden small talk she was having with the cold bounty hunter.

“huh.” he grunts at that, a genuine small smile gracing his lips as he lifts his arm up to touch your poster as he admired you. his darling star wife. your eyes were still sparkling like diamonds even on a poster. still a star after 200 years, huh baby? he sweetly thinks.

lucy’s eyes widened at the sudden genuine… genuine smile the ghoul gave. he must be a really big fan, she thinks.

yet the sweet feeling dies down inside him. you were gone. gone from this world. he grieves at that harsh realization that he never got to see you one last time before the nukes dropped when you went away for work as any other day while he was at a kid’s birthday party. he never knew what happened to you, never knew if you survived or if you were still alive, if there was a miracle. but there were no such things as miracles in the wastelands, that he knew well. he steps back, letting his hand drop and he turns ahead, tutting his chin to lucy who was staring at him.

“get a move on.” his small smile fades as lucy nods when he tuts his shotgun again. he glances back at you one last time and he sees the wedding band on your finger, a pang in his chest erupts as he forces himself to look away and continue on. you were gone. that was it, he harshly tells himself.

that was it.

they arrive to a town, to a medical clinic of some sort, a worn down one as usual. they could hear some grunting and hissing coming from inside and the young girl was hesitate go in as the ghoul pushes her to move forward. the ghoul was looking for rog, another fellow ghoul, hoping he had some spare vials yet luck run out for that. and things did get ugly, shooting roger on the head was mercy, poor fella almost to the brink of turning feral. and poor lucy watched him cut the man up and eventually she cut him up for the ghoul for some ass jerky.

well shit. the ghoul thinks, as they continue on the walk inside the town. concern floods in him, turning feral wasn’t on his list today as well and neither was the vaultie almost escaping from him and biting his damn finger off. on their walk, they happen to past a vault, just a little bit out of the town, he don’t give two shits about what’s in it yet lucy was now adamant they try to go in there.

“please, sir!” lucy pleads again, pointing to the direction of the vault. “i can g-get in there, and maybe the fellow people there can give us supplies and your vials.” she pleads, the idea of her mind getting non-radiated water and food making her gnaw in desperation. he raises a brow at how she can get in there yet the idea still opposes him. he didn’t want to be dealing with more bubble-head smoothies.

“and why the fuck should i agree on that, vaultie?” he coughs out, more violently now.

“please, i can get in, my pip-boy can get us in.” she begs, desperate for him to agree. “listen you need those vials, right? my vault had those and i know every vault has a storage of that in our clinic. if i could get to talk to the people there and reason with them, maybe they can give it to us.”

“maybe.” he scoffs at that, another cough follows through as he could feel the more drastic changes in him now. he wheezes, sighing. he had no problem defending himself if the vaultie turns on him once they get into that vault so why the fuck not? he steps forward as lucy’s pleading eyes wait for his answer.

“well, alright then.” he says as lucy face fell into relief until he spoke again.

“but so we’re clear, vaultie, we’re not done yet. and i won’t hesitate to shoot you and those damn other vaulties if things turn to shit from what fuckery you’re saying.” he warns as lucy quickly nods.

it was amusing for him to see the girl stumble in her steps despite being dehydrated and exceptionally tired as she rushed to the massive vault. it made her look mad, like an addict rushing to a pile of chems. he stands before the vault, feeling the coolness of being in the shade a little relief for him. still, looking at what vault-tec created, on what he advertised made him sour. he sees lucy plugging in her pip-boy to some panel beside the vault, a minute passed and the massive doors open, the sound of it ringing through his ears. before lucy could get in, the ghoul tugs his lasso as she stumbles back as she glared at him.

“gentlemen first.” he says as he got in, the vault was different to see. not like the ones he got in to advertise back then. it was more… industrial from what he can see than a home. lucy steps to his side, confused at the sight of this vault, expecting there should be a vault keeper by the control panel but there was none. the vault door behind them seals shut again, sealing them from the wasteland.

“cat got your tongue, vaultie?” he speaks up to the dazzled lucy.

“this…” she doesn’t know where to start, the vault isn’t the same as hers. “this is d-different.”

“yeah, well…” he shrugs. “i guess vault-tec don’t cater that home of yours to all vaults.” he walks forward to the hallway, an empty hallway, he couldn’t hear any footsteps or murmurs coming in so he guessed this vault must’ve been abandoned.

“t-there should be people here. a vault keeper by the vault door to greet us and an overseer ready to question us—“ she explains, walking behind him, still confused.

“then you’re wrong.” he replies “place still looks intact though.” he looks around, rounding a corner and now into a room in where he halts his steps, surprised at what’s in it and how cold it was.

“well shit.” so many cryogenic chambers filled the room in where he sees. humor fills him, so vault-tec wasn’t advertising just a home but also a way for people to be frozen, huh?

lucy walks quickly to him to see it. “w-what—“

“the people you were looking for are frozen turkey.” he says casually, stepping in, still cautious of his surroundings as he ready his shotgun. lucy walks faster, looking around to see multiple people frozen in these chambers.

“are they… pre-war?” she asks.

“i’d reckon.” he answers, standing in front of one, getting a good look of this person. observing the state of the man in the chamber, he could tell he looks alive seeing the fella still breathing.

“and still alive.” he snickers. he wonders what vault-tec advertised for this shit.

“i don’t understand…” she’s still confused, confused why people are willing to be frozen alive. “why… if they’re frozen then there must be someone watching them?”

“not if that someone is already dead.” he tuts his chin to the control panel where a skeleton is lying down in front of it. he must have guessed maybe something happened to the one caregiver—or more in this vault.

lucy gasps at that. “then how will they all get out?”

“their fate, vaultie. just a fucked up one.” he reminds her and steps away from the chambers. it was grim realization for all the people living here, that they’ll be frozen forever because of vault-tec after they promised them their safety. lucy is rendered speechless of what she’s learning. a moment of silence transpires and a sudden alarm rings off from one of the cryochambers, a blaring red light is seen from it. lucy looks at the ghoul, seeing him confused as well. she rushes to it to see a woman in the chamber as a terminal beside it warns that it was failing life support.

“she’s dying!” lucy shouts, worried.

“leave it.” the ghoul warns, not wanting lucy to touch any shit here.

“if i don’t do anything she might die.” she reasons as the ghoul sighs at her. the terminal’s screen flashes that the chamber is critically failing and that to press the eject button immediately. lucy huffs as she searches for the eject button, ignoring the ghoul’s warnings. a red button is under the terminal and she could see the eject label. despite her arms tightly tied to his lasso, she does one thing that surprises the ghoul as she butts her forehead to press it quickly.

“motherfucker—“ the ghoul grits his teeth as lucy slumps down to see the cryochamber open, cold air hitting her cheeks as the woman in it groans awake. lucy watches as her eyes open suddenly and a gasp is awoken in her as the very woman stumbles out of her chamber, falling to the floor as well.

“ma’am?” lucy spoke up, dazzled to see this woman. seeing clearly that she wasn’t wearing a vault suit like hers but in a black mini-dress. the ghoul watches from afar of where he stands, something familiar about this woman who lucy ejected sparked curiosity in him. it couldn’t be—

“i-i can’t see.” your hoarse voice croaks.

“is someone there?” you call out, blinking your eyes frantically but you still couldn’t see clearly. everything was blurry and confusing for you as you tap the floor from where you are slumped.

lucy is starstruck. you were the woman she just saved from life support. she couldn’t believe it as she glances to the cowboy, seeing him equally shocked as her as well.

“ma’am, i-i’m here.” lucy gently calls out as you raise your head yet the image of lucy is still blurry. your face then drops, into a sudden look of worry.

“m-my husband. is my husband here?” you immediately ask, remembering cooper was supposed to visit you on set after his gig at a birthday party and yet the bombs fall and you couldn’t get to him.

“cooper… cooper howard is he here?” you ask again, panicking.

“he’s…” lucy couldn’t answer that. “i don’t know, ma’am.”

“please… please tell me he made it. i need…” you blink again as it was still blurry. hysterical now that the woman talking to you didn’t know where your husband is or if he even got in time to get into this vault despite you knowing he fucking hated this.

“i-i need, fuck, please tell me he’s here. cooper—“ you sob now. “is my husband alive?” you asks, tears staining your cheeks.

“i don’t know…” lucy’s voice lowers, sympathetic for you. after being frozen for such a long time, your vision was still adjusting to the sudden awakening. your sobs grew louder, realizing he didn’t make it. lucy lips tremble at the sight of you as she looks to the ghoul, seeing him stand frozen as like the people in the chambers.

“sir?” she calls him out.

cooper is dumbstruck at the sight before him. he didn’t know if the lack of chems were taking a toll on him but there you are, his darling beautiful wife, alive and in one piece. still looking like the day he last saw you, all gorgeous in that black dress you wore. he hesitantly steps forward, his rotten heart beating so loudly. a number of emotions are mixed in him. and he was scared. but seeing you crying had his feet finally moving to you and lucy. you were sobbing, calling out his name, and that struck him that you thought he was dead. but in reality, he was in fact dead, now just a shell of a man that turned into a ghoul. he wasn’t cooper howard for a very long time but maybe now, he could still feel his old self inside him from just seeing you alive.

“coop…” you sob his name out. confused and scared as your vision started to become more clearer by the minute. you couldn’t stand, just by the thought of cooper dead had you wanting to be put back in that chamber again.

“i’m here, sugar.”

he finally speaks, crouching next to you. “i’m right here, baby.” he whispers as you frantically lifted your head up hearing his voice, vision still a bit blurry. but a silhouette of a man wearing a cowboy hat had you stopping your sobbing.

“cooper, that you?” you sniffle as you weakly tried to sit up.

“slow, baby.” he ushers you gently. “your body’s still adjusting.”

“you made it?” you ask.

“sort of.” he says as he gently caresses your cheek, he shudders feeling of your soft yet chilled skin. yep, this is real. you’re alive. “once your eyes adjust, sugar. i ain’t the husband you had back then.” he sadly tells you as you nuzzle your cheek to his warmth.

“that’d be impossible.” you tell him as he chuckles at that sadly. “how long have i been frozen turku?”

“give or take, 200 years.”

“well shit.” you say, shocked. had it been that long?

“shit indeed.” he grins, he could tell your vision was starting to come back as he warns you now. “i’m telling you sugar, you not gonna like what i look like now.”

you blink and blink and the light blinds you for a moment before you stare up at him. you gasp, seeing his face now. he was right that he was different. his face was all muscle, no nose, eyelids were sunken, as if the bones are starting to come out but his hazel eyes were still the same. cooper stares at you, waiting for you to be scared and disgusted by him but you surprised him again.

“what happened to you, coop?” you cup his face, softly caressing it. he shudders, the coldness from your hands and the feel of your soft fingers again mad him relish it. “what happened without me?”

“long story, sweetheart.” he says. “not a good one.” his face is stern at that and you could tell he’s gone through a lot of shit.

you hum, letting go of his face, sitting up now. “i thought you were dead.” you tried standing up but failed as cooper helped you up, hands on your waist to keep you steady as you look into his eyes.

“so did i, sugar.”

“i’m glad you’re here. don’t care you look different, coop.” you sigh with relief, caressing his chest as cooper nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, glad you still smelled like warm vanilla. it made him feel more warm, the cold exterior he put on melting down because of you. it felt like for a moment that he was in home with you. the two of you dancing in the kitchen with the radio on after you made dinner.

“mhmm.” he hums, loving this feeling of having you in his arms finally as he caresses your hips to your waist. “feelings mutual, baby.” you giggle a bit when he kissed that spot on your neck.

“uhm…” both of you pulled apart for a moment at lucy’s interference. “just so you know, there’s a couple of roaches on the walls.” she points out as cooper whips you to his side as one lurches at him. you yelp at the sudden gunshot, shocked to see cooper handling a gun again. it kind of looked like he was acting in his cowboy movies with attire but you sure knew that this was not a movie as he eliminated each one. their guts splattered on the floor, sticky and green looking, you cover your ears from the gunshots as you watched your husband stomp on the last one.

“those were roaches?” you asked frantically, appalled at the sight, used to seeing those little critters being little.

“radiation does some fuck up evolution, sweetheart.” he explains calmly, taking your hand into his. for the first time in 200 years he finally feels that feeling he was denying for, hope. and that hope went straight to finding him to you. he kisses your hand lovingly, a promise made he’d protect you once you two get out of the vault.

“a lot has changed up here.” you look at him, there’s this unspoken sadness in his eyes. you understood what the world would like up there and you felt ready for it knowing he’s by your side as you nodded with determination.

“i’ll be ready to face it with you, coop.”

#Spotify #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #walton goggins #fallout #fnhrlcllnwrites

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jessejaredstories · 1 year ago

Text

Type Casting

“C’mon, let’s just give it one more go!”

“I don’t want to…”

Robert was slumped against the wall with his head in between his knees. His friend Aidan was looking down at him. Aidan let out a heavy sigh, then bent down to meet Rob at eye level.

“Listen man, I’m trying to help you out here but you’re making it really difficult.” Aidan tried to make eye contact with Rob, but he turned the other way. “What was that thing you used to say? The best actors can turn themselves into anyone they want? What happened to that energy?”

“Let’s be honest, I was just lying to myself. Even I didn’t believe that bullshit.” Rob said muffled through his hands. He then let himself fall over onto the ground, much to Aidan’s growing annoyance. While Rob was laying on the asphalt, he looked up to the sky above. The dark of night had just settled in and the first few stars had just come out.

Ever since he was a kid, Robert dreamed of being a big time Hollywood actor. He always imagined himself up on the silver screen whenever he went to the movies. Although Rob had spent most of his childhood and adolescence performing for local theater groups, he unfortunately never made it into the big leagues. He had all but given up on his childhood dream and settled for a life working in retail.

However, just as Rob was getting comfortable living an ordinary life, everything changed one fateful day when an acting agent walked into the store. The agent was in desperate need of an actor for an upcoming commercial shoot after the previous guy dropped last minute. Rob just so happened to be on the clock that day. They had a conversation, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, Rob got the part. It was a minor acting gig with only two lines, but it was enough to reignite the passion Rob had for acting. So much so that he decided to quit his day job and pursue acting full time.

But unfortunately for Rob, his good luck started as well as ended on that fateful day. He hasn’t been able to land another acting job despite having gone on numerous auditions. While Rob was already on the verge of giving up again, his best friend Aidan was still holding out hope for him.

“Bro, c’mon, they’re looking for a Filipino dude and you’re the only one auditioning. How could they not cast you?” Aidan said.

“It’s really not that simple… I can’t just be type casted into a role because of my race. They’re looking for a gym bro kinda guy, and I’ve seen cats with more upper body muscle than me. I don’t even look the part, much less act it. It’s hopeless!” Rob sighed and rolled over. They both lingered in silence for a minute.

“You know, maybe we should just call it a night. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep,” Aidan said.

“I doubt it, not unless I can somehow become a gym bro overnight.”

“Stranger things have happened, you know…”

Rob was expecting Aidan to dismiss what he just said, not go along with it. He was only kidding after all! But Rob decided not to think twice about it and just laugh it off.

Robert went to bed that night restless and miserable. Normally he had no problem falling asleep, but for some reason, he just couldn’t sleep that night. Rob was eventually able to fall asleep after enough twisting and turning, but he was plagued by strange dreams. He kept dreaming about some muscular guy entering his bedroom while he slept. The dream was extremely lifelike, Rob felt he could reach out and get a feel of the dude’s jacked bicep!

Rob tried to touch him, but when he reached out, he found himself awake in his bed. Rob blinked and rubbed his eyes as he looked around his empty room. It was just a dream, nothing more and nothing less. Rob nodded off again. As he slept peacefully, the same muscle bro came back in his dreams, albeit in a very different way the second time around.

In the dream, Rob was still just laying down sleeping in his bed. He tried moving his body, but couldn’t. His body was in a deep sleep, and all Rob could do was watch himself sleep.

At first, the dream was nothing more than him sleeping. After a couple of minutes passed, the muscular man made a reappearance. He crept back into Rob’s bedroom, except he was fully naked this time! Rob was caught off guard, but quickly found himself enjoying the view. The man was clean shaven all over his body except for three places: his thick mustache, his hairy pits, and his unruly bush of pubic hair. Rob loved the glorious sight of masculine, well-kept yet hairy man standing in his bedroom. He knew intuitively that the man’s name was Jacob. He watched as Jacob approached him on the bed. He also noticed that the dream version of himself had woken up and had begun stripping down naked. Jacob then hopped on the bed with him, placing himself in between Dream Rob’s open legs. Jacob was stroking himself while Dream Rob was feeling around his well-toned torso. He cupped one of Jacob’s pecs and felt how firm the slabs of meat on his chest were. Jacob had a cocky grin on his face as Rob worshiped him. He then bounced his pecs for Rob, which made him whimper from pleasure.

Even though it was a dream, everything Rob was feeling felt just like real life. He could feel Jacob rubbing his hardening cock against his own dick, which made him get erect too. Rob felt Jacob’s thick bush brush up against the underside of his thighs as he thrusted his hips into him while jerking off. Soft, sensual moans escaped Rob’s lips, matching Jacob’s gruff, baritone groans. Once they were both at full mast, Jacob moved onto the next step of their little “play session.”

Jacob moved up closer to Rob. He grabbed his rock hard cock and positioned it right next to Rob’s. Rob was stunned at how hung Jacob was. He had both length and girth to his junk, and with a big, pink tip too! Jacob then put their dicks together in one hand and jerked them both off. Rob let out a loud moan as Jacob pumped away at both of their cocks. Jacob’s hand had a rough feel to it, most likely due to calluses from working out. Rob also noticed how warm his hand was, which added to the warm pleasure Rob was feeling as Jacob jerked them off. It was the best feeling Rob had felt in a long while.

Precum soon began leaking from the tips of their cocks. Jacob noticed his leakage and shuffled away slightly to reposition himself. Rob was purring with anticipation. He was expecting him to put it in, but instead he got something he could’ve never guessed. Rob started stroking himself off at a rapid pace and with bated breath. Rob assumed he was about to finish, but that guess was wrong too. Instead, Jacob’s cock started growing even longer and wider. Jacob then closed the gap between them again. He hovered his cock over Rob’s junk and lowered it. Jacob’s cock then engulfed Rob’s entire dick and balls area. Rob winced. He felt a pinch when he got swallowed up by Jacob’s engorged member. Jacob’s dick was throbbing. The vein running from the base to the tip was pulsating. Rob could feel Jacob twitching due to their dicks being conjoined. Only a few more seconds before Jacob let out a primal moan from deep within. Rob had no idea what was happening, but unfortunately had no time to react.

“Ahhh… Ah!? Arghh FUCKK!!” Rob moaned. He could feel the warmth of Jacob shooting out ropes of cum. However, because his cock was inside of Jacob’s, his loads had nowhere to go except inside of Rob’s dick. Rob was squirming as he felt all of Jacob’s spunk rush through the slit of his cockhead and down the length of his member. Jacob kept shooting out load after load and all of it was getting pumped straight into Rob’s balls. Rob’s cock and balls grew thicker and heavier as a result of getting filled up. He had become hung like a horse, sporting a cool 7 inch cock with some hefty girth to match its length too. Jacob’s seed had overwhelmed Rob’s reproductive system, forcing it to produce Jacob’s DNA rather than Rob’s. All of the testosterone filled cum Jacob had pumped into Rob began transforming the lower half of his body.

The body transformation was as pleasurable as it was intense. Waves of ecstasy-like warmth spread throughout Rob’s legs and thighs as they grew exponentially bigger, forcing Rob to throw his head and moan as it all happened. The lower half of his body essentially exploded with mass. Once they finished growing, Rob’s body immediately shaped the extra mass into chiseled, muscular legs that looked just like Jacob’s.

Rob felt like his body was on fire after the explosive growth his legs went through! He was huffing and puffing for breath after that bodily experience. Rob was thankful that no more cum was getting pumped into him. It seemed like Jacob had finally been drained of every last drop. However, although his balls might’ve run dry, Jacob knew of another way to keep the transformation fun going.

Jacob let Rob’s dick wiggle out of his own. Once they were detached, his engorged cock shrunk back down to its usual size. Jacob then positioned Rob to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He then hopped on top of him, placing him in between his beefy legs. Rob was now at eye level with Jacob’s massive chest.

Rob salivated being so close to Jacob’s beefy pecs. He reached out and grabbed his left nipple with thumb and forefinger. He felt the few hairs surrounding the nipple tickling against his fingers as he gave him a light squeeze, causing Jacob to groan with delight. Rob then leaned in and planted his lips against Jacob’s succulent nipple. Rob could taste the salt of a few sweat drops as he used his tongue to flick his nipple around in his mouth. The thought of suckling a man’s juicy pecs made Rob get hard again, encouraging him to give Jacob the best service his mouth could offer.

Jacob was breathing heavily as Rob sucked off his sensitive nipples. He began running his fingers through Rob’s hair while Rob went to work. While they were both having the time of their lives, this only lasted a few minutes before Jacob decided to switch things up again. He grabbed hold of Rob’s head and pressed him against his pec. Rob didn’t think twice about Jacob’s sudden dominance; he simply assumed he wanted him to suck even harder. He proceeded to suck and lick and bite as pleasurably as he could. Meanwhile, Jacob was using his free hand to rub down his pectoral muscles. He started squeezing at the top of his chest and ran his hand down to the nipple, stimulating his pecs until they started lactating.

“Mmmm… Mmmrrngh? Mmmmm…!!”

Rob noticed there was a sudden new taste in his mouth. However, it was a sweet, slightly milky taste that he quickly grew addicted to. It didn’t deter him from sucking Jacob’s chest, it only encouraged him to go even harder. Rob drank it all like a starving kitten while Jacob was in a world of heaven due to the combined sensations of lactating and having a man’s warm mouth sucking down on his nipple.

Rob struggled to swallow all the milk. Some of it leaked out and ran down Rob’s mouth, causing an even wetter mess than before, but Rob kept at it. Jacob’s pec milk was the key to the second half of the transformation. The more of the sweet, sweet pec milk Rob drank, the stronger he was becoming. His torso began swelling up with muscle mass just like his legs did. His arms grew until he had two cannons with melon-sized biceps. His shoulders and back grew wider and chiseled. His pecs ballooned out but stayed firm with muscle, giving him a set of man tits that would put anyone to shame with their voluptuous size. By the time Jacob’s chest had finally run dry, Rob had been completely transformed into a beefy bodybuilder just like him.

Rob leaned back from Jacob’s now swollen chest and swallowed the last few drops of milk he managed to suckle out. Once he swallowed, he let out a satisfied exhale and a loud burp. He then looked at Jacob with pleading eyes, the same eyes you would see on any submissive bottom eager to please. Jacob looked down to match Rob’s gaze, then grinned. He leaned down and gave Rob a big, fat kiss on the lips. Rob kissed him back too. He then opened his mouth slightly to let Jacob stick his tongue inside his mouth. Their tongues danced together in Rob’s mouth with Jacob’s tongue taking the dominant role. They then locked lips together for one last triumphant tongue kiss. Once Jacob pulled away, Rob noticed some course hair touching his upper lip. He reached out to touch his lip and with one stroke of the finger, he realized what had happened. Jacob had bestowed upon him the finishing touch of his transformation- his thick mustache befitting of a muscle daddy like the new him.

Robert woke up in an incredibly great mood the next morning. He laid in bed with a wide smile on his face as he fondly replayed the weird yet awesome wet dream he had last night. Although he would always have the memory, he hoped the dreamy muscle man would visit him again sometime in the future.

Rob noticed his body felt heavier as he laid in bed. He took a look down at himself, then smirked. It was the kind of cocky smirk any guy with a great body would have. He was hot and he knew it!

He jumped out of bed with glee and ran to the nearest mirror to check himself out. Surely enough, his reflection in the mirror matched the same beefy cupcake his own eyes showed him. Rob almost couldn’t believe he had actually transformed overnight. He had so many questions running through his mind, but standing in front of the mirror, all he could think about was how hot his new body had become.

“Fuck yeah! I’m ripped as fuckk!!”

While Rob was busy admiring his new self in the mirror, someone had been knocking on the door. Rob didn’t even notice someone was knocking. As a result, their knocks had evolved to them pounding on the door. The pounding was enough to finally get Rob’s attention. Annoyed, Rob pulled himself away from the mirror and hurried to the door. He opened it to an equally annoyed Aidan waiting on the other side.

“Where the fuck have you- Woah.” Aidan stepped into Rob’s apartment ready to chew him out but stopped after taking one look at the new him. He almost didn’t recognize him due to his new muscular physique. He had to look closely at his face just to recognize him. “Rob? Is that you!? Holy shit!!”

“I know right! Check me out bro, you like my new look?” Rob flexed his bicep for Aidan while he hyped him up. Though Aidan was happy for his friend, he remembered the reason why he came by in the first place.

“I don’t know how the fuck you managed to go super saiyan on me overnight, but we don’t have time for this right now. Your audition’s in an hour and it’s all the way across town!”

“Oh fuck!! I completely forgot about that, let’s GO!”

Rob quickly threw some clothes on and ran out the door with Aidan by his side. They barreled down the highways at dangerously high speeds, driving as fast as Rob’s car could manage. They were able to make it to the rec center where auditions were being held just in the nick of time. Rob ran into the waiting lobby just as the producer called out his name.

“Alright bro… You got this… Break… A leg!” Aidan said in between huffs, fighting to catch his breath after sprinting from the parking lot. Rob nodded and followed the producer into the backroom.

“Welcome, Robert, please feel free to take a minute to catch your breath. I know you had to run to get here on time, what happened?” the producer asked as she took a seat next to the director.

“Nothing, just traffic. You know how it gets in this city,” Rob responded.

“I see. Well then, feel free to start whenever you’re ready.”

“Actually, before I start, is it alright if I do a little improv? I have the sides down but I wanted to add my own little flair to the scene.”

“Do as you must, just be sure to show us your best performance.” The director answered with a bored inflection in her voice.

Rob nodded, then proceeded to perform the sides for the audition. He had the sides perfectly memorized, and he followed the script’s exact punctuation down to the comma too. Rob didn’t stray far from the script for the most part, but for his rendition of the scene, he decided to take out his shirt and play the character as an aloof himbo rather than just an arrogant jock.

Once he finished performing, Rob looked up to see their faces. The producer looked irritated, while the director still had the same poker face she had when Rob first entered the room.

“Well! Thank you for your time, Robert, we’ll let you know if-”

“No need,” the director waved her hand to stop the producer. “After seeing over 20 auditions today, I can say with confidence that you’re the best fit for the role. Congratulations Robert, you got the part.”

Rob was bursting with joy. He shook the director’s hand with an over enthusiastic vigor and a wide grin on his face. He then walked out to share the great news with Aidan, who was just as excited as he was. He had done it; he had landed a role in a major Hollywood production as the main character’s meathead yet lovable brother.

Epilogue

Several months have passed since Rob finished filming his last major role. His newly acquired looks granted him the confidence he needed to perform at his best. Coupled with his eagerness and passion for acting, Rob had become the total package, and other big names in the film industry agreed too. Word had gotten out on how Rob was set to become a rising star. A couple of directors had even scouted him for their upcoming projects! All in all, Rob was enjoying the new life he was only just starting to build up for himself as an actor.

However, there was one slight problem. Rob and Aidan’s friendship had taken a turn for the worse lately. While Aidan was happy for his buddy’s success and Rob was more than happy to share some of the Hollywood glamor with his best friend, the two had begun bickering a lot.

It started back when Rob first transformed into the beefy bodybuilder he was now. Rob was slowly becoming more and more arrogant ever since then. Aidan didn’t notice at first, but it was becoming more obvious with every passing day. Every other sentence Rob said had the word “bro” shoved into it. That, and if it didn’t involve his acting career, going to the gym, partying, or fucking hot dudes, then Rob simply had no time or patience for it. Even Aidan, his best friend since primary school, had been shoved into the sidelines! Rob had become the epitome of a selfish, gym rat narcissistic.

But Aidan was never the type to simply roll over and give up. He would sooner die than let his best friend go without a fight. So he decided to try and get the old Rob back, much to his dismay.

Rob was in the middle of getting ready to go out clubbing with his other actor friends. While getting dressed, he decided to take a moment to admire himself in the mirror. He made sure to keep up with the maintenance a hot, muscular body like his needed in order to be maintained. He was proud of his physique, and it was then he decided he was gonna find another hot guy to fuck all night long. It had been too long since he last got off after all, his balls were already hanging low with how full they were! All he needed was someone to drain him of his load.

As Rob was recording a new thirst trap to send out on dating apps, he got an incoming video call from Aidan. Rob grunted and declined the call. Annoyed, he threw his phone off to the side. But just as he was about to resume getting ready when he felt something strange in his chest. He looked down and bounced his pecs again. Rob noticed that it took him more effort than usual to flex his pectoral muscles. He grabbed one of his pecs, gave it a squeeze and when he did, he felt like something was about to leak out of his nipple. Something… Like milk.

Aidan called again. Rob turned to look at his phone ringing on the bed. He then looked back down at his body. It was then a brilliant idea had hit him. Rob and Aidan were going to be the best of friends again after he was done.

#male transformation

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