#this is mostly a history post because it got away from me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrycolored-punk · 1 month

Text

Muse

pairings: artist!Eddie x fem!reader

author’s note: re-posting, originally posted on my previous blog @strangemagicc 🖤 this was going to be a series but for now this is a standalone blurb until inspo strikes

warnings: smutty smut smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (Eddie and reader receiving), slight praise kink, let me know if I missed anything!

w/c: 5.6k

The room was cold, the walls white, a little medicinal. Light cascaded through the windows, hues of tangerine and gold creating a warmth against the expanse of your exposed flesh.

Your head rested against your shoulder, arms pressed into the wooden stage below you, legs posed to the side elongating your body. You could feel their eyes on you, pensive and concentrated but you focused your gaze on the wall behind them. Studied the cracks in the plaster and the splatters of paint from classes before.

The minutes ticked by, slow and tedious. You shifted your gaze to the left, eyes meeting intense chestnut. He smiled at you, small and polite before looking back at his canvas. Lines formed on his forehead, eyebrows raised high as he captured the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips. He was handsome, conspicuously so. Curly auburn hair tied into a low bun, black t-shirt clinging to the muscle of his tattooed arms.

A walking canvas, perfect lines and shadows.

Heat rose to your chest, blossomed in your cheeks and your breathing became more shallow.

Your eyes darted away from him, back to the wall behind him and you remained focused refusing to linger a moment longer on the curve of his jaw or the cluster of freckles on his nose. Worried that he’d noticed you noticing him. Because you had noticed him plenty of times. On campus and in class. Sitting in the back of your art history sketching in his journal as the professor droned on and the minutes ticked by slowly. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, give you a smirk or a small wave to let you know that weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought. Each time heat would rise to your cheeks, eyes darting away. And you would be embarrassed if you hadn’t caught him just as fixated, just as hypnotized.

A timer began to beep alerting the class that you were due for a break, that your pose would change once you returned. You pushed off your hands, stretched your shoulders, and rolled your wrists before grabbing for your robe. The plush fabric was a welcomed comfort, cotton soft against your skin.

Students talked amongst themselves, reviewing each other’s work, their creations of you but no one spoke directly to you.

Over the last few months, you began modeling for the figure art class to make a few extra bucks, to make your way through college, and to get your own art degree.

At first, it was awkward, you were unsure of yourself and how to place your body. Uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on you for an hour, studying the flesh of your stomach and the stretch marks on the curve of your ass. But it became easier, almost second nature to be bare in front of mostly strangers.

You continued stretching your neck as you walked towards your bag for a snack hidden in the depths of your purse. You needed something, your hunger nearly loud enough for those around you to notice. The granola bar was sweet against your lips, apple and cinnamon. A little stale from sitting in your cabinet too long. Still, you hummed as you devoured it, eyes closed and savoring each bite.

“That should be your next pose,” a deep voice stated from above you. You opened your eyes, chocolate brown looking back at you with a smirk. A whisper of a dimple on his cheek.

“What would you call it? Glutton?” You joked back, taking another bite to cover the way your breath hitched when you got a whiff of his cologne.

“Hmm, I was thinking ecstasy. Something about how your eyes roll whenever you take a bite seems fitting.” You chuckled at his words, heat blossoming in your chest at his sentiment.

Ecstasy.

He popped a grape into his mouth from the bag he was holding, thumb lingering on his lips as he eyed you. A mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he wiped his hand before reaching it out to shake yours, your eyebrows meeting with a crease at the gesture. Seemed a little formal after he’d already seen you naked. But still, you slipped your small hand into his much larger one, felt the calluses on his fingers and the ones against his palm as you introduced yourself. He smiled and repeated your name with a nod, your hand lingering in his as the two of you stared at each other in silence. You shook your head, a little dazed as though he had put a spell on you.

“Aren’t you in my art history class?” Eddie pushed a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his heels as he made small conversation.

“With Professor Blake?” You tilted your head watching as his eyes wandered down your frame and back again.

“Yeah, that guy. Always has a coffee stain somewhere.” You nodded along with his description, watched as he talked with his hands making gestures as he spoke mimicking Professor Blake’s mannerisms and the dribble of coffee he always had.

“That would be him,” you giggled again, wadding up the wrapper to your granola bar.

“How are you liking the class?”

“Something about art history makes me want to stab myself in the eye but otherwise it’s fine. Blubbering Blake makes it pretty entertaining, classmates are pretty cute,” he mused and kept his eyes trained on you.

Your gaze fluttered, an abashed smile found a home on your lips. You cleared your throat as you tried to formulate a response.

“I think it would be more fun if we spent more time looking at the art while we listened to them drabble on. More than just slides y’know? I like to be immersed in it.” As though that weren’t obvious by your lack of clothes moments ago. Your nerves were ignited making you antsy, a little bit of a rambling mess.

“I feel the same way,” he gave you a thoughtful nod, “You can only see or understand so much from a lecture and it’s usually all from a PowerPoint anyways,” he shrugged, gaze lingering on yours. He was unabashed with his staring, the way his gaze wandered over the length of you.

“You know what I’m really excited to see?” He nodded for you to continue, crossing his arms as he listened. Your enthusiasm was evident, wide eyes and a huge smile.

“Yayoi Kusama, her exhibit is going to be in Philly.” His gaze changed, excitement building at your words.

“Seriously? Holy shit, I have to see that. I’ve been following her work for a while,”

“Well if you’re interested, I have an extra ticket for tomorrow. My friend bailed on me.”

Your date had bailed but he didn’t need to know that. You shrugged your shoulder nonchalantly as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if this wasn’t your first conversation and you weren’t asking him to go out. As if you weren’t dying to end the night with him in your bed.

“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” he nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Great,” you beamed, “it starts at eight if you want to meet there?” Eddie shook his head.

“Absolutely not, I’m picking you up. We can get dinner after.”

“This is sounding a little like a date, Eddie.” You teased him to hide the nervous butterflies that were unraveling at your center.

“I hope so,” he smiled at you fully, one you couldn’t help but return.

The alarm went off letting you know that your break was over, that it was time for your final pose.

“Dinner sounds great,” you whispered over your shoulder as you walked back towards the makeshift stage and dropped your robe. Eddie shot you a wink, dimpled grin on full display as his gaze traveled over you.

———————————

You clawed through your closet for the better part of an hour, your bedroom littered with rejects as you examined your reflection in the mirror.

The black fabric of the short corduroy dress you’d decided on hugged you, accentuating the curve of your hips and ass. Your cleavage pressed into the fabric, the top button hanging on for dear life. You paired it with sheer black tights, a leather blazer, mary jane pumps, and a daring red lip. A little pop of color.

You shook out your hair, teasing it with your hands for a little volume before sliding on your gold necklace and matching hoops. You felt cute, a little hot even, and winked at yourself in the mirror laughing at your own cringe before checking your texts to see one from Eddie that said he was on his way.

Excitement filled you, a motley crew of butterflies swarming your abdomen as you anticipated his arrival and thought over your conversation, exchanging numbers after the class had ended. You’d thought about it since the day before, going about your routine with a little hum, a small smile and now the moment was here.

Eddie knocked at the door softly and straightened out his appearance as he waited for you.

You smoothed out the lines of your dress, fixed your cleavage, and looked at your reflection in the hall mirror one last time before answering.

His eyes widened, jaw slack as he looked at you. You were equally off guard, admiring his simple black button-down paired with black jeans that accentuated the curve of his thighs. He wore rings on either hand, big and intimidating. His hair hung at his shoulders instead of the bun you saw him in yesterday, a small chain tucked into his shirt. Eddie smelled like bergamot and sage, a hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing.

“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he finally looked into your eyes. You melted under his gaze, flattered was too small of a word to describe how you felt under the intensity of his regard.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you complimented, slightly entranced by the smell of his cologne.

“Flattery will get you anything, sweetheart,” he chuckled, hiding the redness of his cheeks as the two of you walked out of your apartment building. His hand stayed at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of hallways, down the elevator, and out the front door.

The fall night was chilly, a gentle breeze biting at your skin and you tucked yourself further into your blazer.

“Are you okay taking my motorcycle? If not I can get us a Lyft. I didn’t realize until I was on my way that I hadn’t mentioned it when I insisted on picking you up.” He grimaced.

“Let’s take your bike,” you assured him with a smile as the two of you walked in step. His bike was parked near your building, matte black and sleek. You let out a low whistle and walked ahead to get a good look at it.

“It’s so fucking nice,” you enthused, secretly always wanting a bike but knowing you could barely walk on two feet let alone ride on just two wheels.

“Thanks, got her this summer. Took her to the coast and some beaches. Was a pretty kick-ass time.” Eddie grabbed his helmet, adjusted the strap, and turned to you offering it.

“I don’t have an extra, don’t usually ride with a passenger,” he shrugged, “hopefully this will fit you.” He handed you the black helmet, matte to match his bike.

“Are you trying to say that I have a big head?” You scoffed playfully. His eyebrows shot up, devious. Like he didn’t want to be the one to tell you the truth that you were carrying a globe on your neck. You swatted at his shoulders playfully, a small giggle escaping.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he pretended to wince, rubbing his shoulder like it still stung all the while smiling broadly back at you.

“It was so implied in those eyebrows,” you pointed at them, drawing a little circle in the air in case he forgot where they were.

“They have a mind of their own,” he raised his hands as if he didn’t have an explanation and watched as you tugged the helmet on. It was tight against you, cheeks squeezed on the sides like your uncle used to.

“You might actually be right,” you grimaced, thinking of how unflattering the whole thing looked.

“I promise that’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he chuckled reaching over and adjusting the chin strap.

Eddie tapped your head slightly, shot you another wink that went straight between your thighs. He was suave, annoyingly confident but it had you hungry.

Wanting.

He slipped his legs over the bike, the fabric of his jeans bunching around his thighs and you eyed the swell of his ass. Eddie chuckled at the directon of your gaze as he held his hand out for you, helping you onto the bike and instructing you to use his shoulders to get situated. The muscle flexed under your touch, solid. You wanted to glide your fingers along them, skim the hard muscle of his arms into his back.

“How you feeling back there?” He peeked over his shoulder at you.

“G-good,” you stammered placing your hands gently at his sides.

“You might want to hold on a little tighter.” He pulled your hands around his waist, and patted them gently after you interlocked your fingers.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better,” you nodded even though he was no longer looking. He took off, motorcycle vibrating beneath you. You pressed your face into his back, arms tight around his stomach as the wind whipped against you.

—--

Eddie walked you to your door, palm on the small of your back, your body buzzing with the two margaritas you had over dinner and the warmth radiating from his touch. You weren’t drunk, just a little less wound tight. Nerves melted into oblivion. Inhibitions near nonexistent.

The date was good, great even. You had thought of this moment all night, how to invite him in and if you were being too forward. If you’d read into how his hand dipped from the small of your back to the swell of your ass. If you imagined the hunger in his gaze that was mirrored in yours.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you beamed, back pressed into the wood of your door as you looked up at him. A little flirty, eyes batting. His brown eyes searched your face, settled on your bottom lip and he swallowed hard.

“I had a lot of fun too, thanks for inviting me.” He leaned a little closer, bergamot and cinnamon filling the small space between the two of you.

His eyes darted back and forth between your gaze and the pout of your lips.

Debating.

You leaned closer, back leaving the surface of the door, the swell of your breasts brushing against his chest as you did. He crowded your space, pushing you gently back against the wood, one hand resting above your head and the other playing with the hem of your dress. You tried to seem unphased but the way you swallowed had you giving away how his touch affected you.

Eddie dipped his fingers under the hem of your dress tracing the line of your upper thigh to the cheek of your ass. Teasing. Eyes darkening when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear.

Your hand moved up his chest, lightly scratching the exposed flesh until they were twined behind his neck, the sweet smell of your perfume making him hum.

He wedged a leg between the two of yours, the sound of his boot heavy against the hallway floor, nose brushing yours as he leaned in watching your eyes flutter close.

Eddie cupped your jaw, calloused thumb rubbing gently against your cheekbone, tracing a line to your bottom lip and pulling against it. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his other hand move further up your skirt, fingers digging into the doughy flesh.

His breath was warm against your lips, a whisper above yours as he continued to tease you. You whined impatiently pulling him closer until his lips were pressed into yours.

They were softer than you expected, plump against your own and you knotted your fingers into his curls. Pulling softly and eliciting a groan. He sucked your bottom lip, tongue sliding across asking for permission until you opened for him. Your tongues met in the middle, soft as they explored each other.

Eddie’s hand cupped your jaw as the kiss deepened, his knee pressed between your thighs and you began to grind against him. Your clit rubbed against the rough material of his jeans making you shiver with the contact. You felt him twitch against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressed into you making you moan into his mouth.

He pulled away from you, pupils blown, cheeks blushed crimson. He eyed your swollen lips, a question on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.

“We should go inside,” you stated between breathy sighs. Eddie nodded rapidly, swallowing roughly as he eyed your cleavage before you turned around and began digging for your keys, shuffling around your wallet and tubes of cherry lipgloss.

He pressed kisses to the curve of your neck, tongue darting over the nipped flesh. Length hard against you, rutting into your ass. You were unable to concentrate, head tilting back as his palms created a path until they were cupping your breasts. Your hands stilled as he explored the heavy flesh.

“You better keep looking,” he instructed, teeth grazing your thrumming pulse. You nodded, chest heaving as you dug through your purse again, finally finding the keys.

You pushed the door open with shaky hands, Eddie trailing behind you. You closed the heavy wood in a rush, breaths short as you kicked off your mary jane pumps.

Your apartment was only illuminated by the light in your hallway, creating a shadow over Eddie’s strong jaw. You grazed a fingertip over the bone and he shuddered, eyes dark as he pushed you lightly against the door pressing rough kisses to your sternum.

You reached for the buttons of Eddie’s shirt, fingernails grazing against the tattooed flesh as the material of the black button-up dangled open. He tilted your head back to get better access, kissing down your neck, your chest, and to the top of your breasts. Your skin was warm against his lips, flushed with the heat building between the two of you.

He nipped at your cleavage, fingers starting to undo the buttons that lined the front of your dress, fumbling through them quickly until the material dropped open.

“Fuck,” he breathed a groan as he eyed you, fingers gliding over the flesh of your stomach and up your chest, pushing at the straps of your dress until it fell to the floor with a soft thud.

You were nearly bare, standing in just your tights and your black lace bra. Goosebumps sprouted, a shuddered breath escaped your lips and he was on you.

Rough kisses, all teeth and tongue.

Hungry. Desperate.

He groaned as he felt your perked nipples through the lace of your bra against his muscled chest, big hands finding purchase on the curve of your hips. He squeezed you firmly, flipping you around until your chest was pressed into the door. Eddie rubbed his hands over your ass, warmth radiating through the thin layer separating him from your bare skin.

“How attached to these tights are you?” He asked, voice gruff. He began sucking a sensitive spot behind your ear as he waited for your answer.

“N-not really,” you stammered, distracted. Needy.

Eddie’s right hand cupped your breast wandering under the material of your bra. He squeezed at the nipple as his other hand left a blazing trail down your back and between your thighs. You were soaked, slick arousal making your tights stick to your folds. Eddie traced the outline of them with his finger, breath catching as he felt how wet you were.

“All of this because of me?” His voice was low, warm breath fanning your ear as he pressed into you.

His cock twitched against your ass and you nodded at him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as you began grinding against him, hips wiggling against his hard length. He stilled your hips, fingernails digging into your skin creating crescent moons.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” You nodded again, trying to press harder against him. To feel him against your clit. The friction you so desperately needed.

Eddie smacked your ass and your moan grew louder, needier. Enjoying the sting as his hand rubbed the covered flesh.

“You like that, baby?”

Both his hands rubbed over the dough over your ass, against the seam of your tights, fingers digging until you heard a rip from the nylon and felt the air against the slick between your legs.

Eddie gently pushed against your feet spreading your legs further apart, fabric ripped in half until the tights were two separate halves. He grabbed the fat of your ass spreading you apart bending on his knees behind you.

“Jesus fuck,” he moaned, swiping against your folds.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, finger dipping close to your cunt.

“Is this all for me?” You nodded but he couldn’t see, gaze trained on how you glistened in front of him.

“I need to hear you, sweetheart,” his hand stilled and you whimpered.

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Make you cum with my tongue?” You nodded again, this time earning another slap against your ass. Your nipples pebbled at the contact, cunt gripping around nothing as your moan filled the space.

“I need you to tell me, pretty girl,” Eddie instructed, spreading you apart again.

“Please, please make me cum Eddie.”

Your nails scrapped against the wood door, clawing at nothing as he teased your cunt with his thick finger. Thumb playing with your bundle of nerves. You felt his warm breath against your wet arousal and shivered, forehead pressing into the door as you bit your lip in anticipation.

You were a second away from begging when you felt his tongue swipe against your folds. He groaned at your taste, lapping up your dripping arousal like a man starved. Your toes curled as he pressed further into you, head twisted so he could work your clit, thick fingers teasing your entrance. You wiggled your ass against his face, a silent plead and Eddie slipped a finger inside stretching you until he was knuckle deep. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot you had trouble reaching on your own.

Your moans grew louder, reverberating off the walls of your apartment as you got closer to coming undone.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god,” your chest heaved, eyes squeezing tight as the rubber band inside you constricted.

He added a second finger, tongue lapping at your juices as you began to constrict around him. You reached behind, fingers wrapping into his curls and holding his head to you.

Your moans matched his pace. The sound of your squelching pussy filling the air around you. Its lewdness egging Eddie on, and his breath was warm against your sensitive skin as his groan vibrated through you.

Whimpers escaped your lips in quick succession, blissed out and close to the edge.

“I-I’m so close, Eddie,” you mewled and he began to suck your clit, your vision going white as the rubber band snapped and you came undone.

Your walls pulsed around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathy moans. Body shaking as the orgasm took over. His groans vibrated against your clit making you shudder and he savored every last drop, never slowing. Lapping at your juices. He slapped your ass again, your legs shaky as he left a trail of kisses up your spine and turned you around.

You melted into his arms, looked at him with hooded eyes and saw the evidence of your climax coating his mouth. You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him deep and tasting your sweetness on his swollen lips.

“You taste so good baby, so sweet,” you bit at his bottom lip. Less shy, already hungry for more. To feel the delicious stretch of the hard length that had been pressing against you. You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pushed back gently, a silent command.

“It’s time for me to take care of you,” you guided him further into the apartment, gaze trained on his as you undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. Your hands worked the button of his jeans, nails brushing the hair that trailed into his pants and teasing the sensitive skin there.

He looked at you with hooded eyes, stopping at the foot of your bed when you got down in front of him. Knees digging into the carpeted floor. You looked at him over your lashes, teeth biting into your lower lip as you took it slow. You pushed his jeans down his hips and he kicked them to the side watching as you grazed the ends of your nails against his legs, up the swell of his muscled thighs. Smiling when he shivered at the touch.

You kissed his clothed length, hand massaging his balls, trailing kisses until you reached the tip. A patch on his boxers wet from pre-cum. You stroked him through the thin fabric, hand wrapping around his girthy cock as you dragged your palm from the base to his tip.

He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and you ached at the thought of stretching around him. You stood, hand still wrapped his length, and pushed him onto the bed. He spread his stance wide, brown eyes watching as you situated yourself between his legs, his chest rising and falling in short spurts.

You palmed his thighs, finger grazing the spandex of his boxers and pulled them down watching as his cock sprang free. You bit your bottom lip as you eyed his length. He was thick, an angry vein lined the underside, pink head leaking with precum. You grabbed the base of him, tongue flat as you licked a line to his tip swirling over the top to collect the pearly liquid. You moaned at the taste of him, Eddie watching you with a hooded gaze and a shallow breath. You gathered spit, dribbling it down his tip until his head was slick and grazed your flat tongue against it.

“Oh fucking Christ,” his voice was ragged, fingers gripping your sheets as he felt you bob against his length, sucking his sensitive head with a loud pop as you eyed him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head down his length, cock twitching as you attempted to take every inch. Mouth wide, saliva dripping on either side of your gaped mouth. Eddie tensed as he felt your throat constricting around him, swallowing. Taking him deep until you were gagging.

He almost doubled over, veins in his hands at attention as he gripped your hair to try to maintain self-control.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long like this,” he admitted, head thrown back. A goner.

You licked the underside of his cock one last time, giving his tip a little peck and crawled over his frame, nails scratching lightly across his chest.

He looked at you with a heavy gaze, thumb wiping the saliva that dripped on your chin and back to your lips. You wrapped your plump lips around his thumb, tongue darting across it. A tease.

His cock twitched underneath you as you wiggled on his lap. Needy. He removed his thumb, jaw agape as he watched.

He leaned in, mouth connecting with yours and kissed you until neither of you could breathe. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, the kiss deepening as he swallowed your shaky gasps. Rubbing your arousal against his hard length. Sensitive clit throbbing with each swipe. You pulled away panting, eyes heavy with lust. Dazed.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he clung to you, his hands reaching up to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounced out and he kneaded the ample flesh, eyes fixated on your perked nipples.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he took one into his mouth, sucking. Nibbling. Watching as you keened at his touch.

You reached beneath you and gripped him firmly, lining him up with your entrance and slowly began to sink down. He eased in easier but was still a stretch. You circled your hips pulling more of him in until your cunt was wrapped tightly around every inch of him. There was a dull ache where you were connected, stretching over his girth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your middle, eyebrows scrunched at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, fingers digging into your sides and likely to leave evidence of his touch. You adjusted to his length, breathless and stuffed full.

Eddie pressed his nose to your neck as he held you, hissing as you lifted your hips off his lap. His cheeks were flushed pink, sweat beading on his chest. He moved his hands below your ass, kneading it and spreading you apart. You clenched around him as he spread you, both of you gasping at the sensation. Eddie helped ease you up, bringing you back down over his length. The sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room.

His lips were back on yours and he swallowed your moans as you picked up the pace, hips creating circles whenever you reached his tip in a tease. He slapped your ass at every taunt of your hips, and you clenched with each contact of his hand against your butt cheek. He held you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your waist and began rutting into you. Balls slapping against you with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you screamed his name, rubber band threatening to snap inside you as he continued.

“Yeah, baby? Going to be a good girl and cum for me again?” You clenched at the nickname.

“Oh you like being called a good girl, don’t you sweetheart?” You nodded, unable to form a sentence or find the words. Only able to pant his name as he continued to stretch you.

“Make sure you ask me before you do,” he instructed, his hand reached between the two of you. His thumb found your clit and Eddie began rubbing it in mean circles. You jolted at the contact, your thighs a mess from your building release. Your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, scratching at the muscle as the pressure built.

“Please, Eddie, please let me cum?” You asked between heavy breaths, vision turning white as the climax built.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he hummed watching as your head tilted and your eyes rolled, pussy fluttering around his length as the rubber band snapped. You could feel the climax throughout your body, goosebumps forming on the skin of your arms as Eddie continued to pump into you.

Overstimulated, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitive cunt was stretched.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to cum,” his hips sputtered as he bucked into you with one final thrust. His nails digging into the fat of your ass, his cock twitching as he came. He pumped you full, walls painted with his release.

Eddie held you, hands less firm and rubbing soft circles where he dug into your skin. He pecked your bare chest, lips sliding over your breasts, up your sternum and to your neck. Softer. Sweeter.

He found your lips and kissed you with a saccharine grin. Curly bangs sticking to his forehead. You looked at him closely, his face smeared with the red of your lipstick and you giggled at the mess. He raised a curious brow as you began to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess out of you,” you teased.

“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing,” and you could feel the mix of yours and his release running down your thighs.

Your hearts were beating rapidly, your hands splayed on the muscle of his chest and something about his gaze made you suddenly shy. You hid in his chest, planting sweet kisses along his pecs. Eddie tilted your chin.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he lifted you gently, placing you beside him on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss before venturing down the hall to find the restroom.

You listened as he grabbed a washcloth, the sound of the water running, and the soft pads of his feet as he returned. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over your sensitive cunt, cock twitching at your gasps. He tossed the damp cloth into the hamper and watched you, admired the outline of your frame.

“I want to draw you just like this,” he remarked, eyes tracing over your frame. Breathing beginning to return to normal, hitching every time you met his gaze. You covered your mouth as you giggled.

“Like one of your French girls, Jack?”

“If you’ll let me, Rose,” he leaned over, teeth grazing your lower lip and you gasped. Returning the affection with a dart of your tongue, sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned, the length of his cock hardening with each pass of your lips against his.

“Maybe another time,” you suggested between kisses, and he nodded already pushing you further up the bed.

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 month

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because this ask brought the Jttw Stone Egged Au (+the Post au) to the front of my brain;

I suggest an... interesting encounter the Pilgrims can have on their Journey while in the Country of Jisai. Macaque was in the middle of baby-carrying duty (a task he accepted wholeheartedly) when he encountered a stranger with odd words to say;

Stranger: "Nüwa blesses you." Macaque, surprised: "Oh! Thanks..." Stranger: "Do they have a name yet?" Macaque, focuses on the baby in his arms: "Yeah, we've been considering Xiaotian. Our Little Heaven." Stranger: "Beautiful." Macaque, cheeky smile: "I credit my mate though. I probably would have called them"Macaque's Kid" or something. I'm terrible for names." Stranger, chuckling: "He certainly has far to go to fit his title! It will take him a long time to be recognised with the renown such a name begets." Macaque, amused: "Oh, let me guess, you're some kind of fortune-teller?" Stranger: "In a way. I can sense when certain actions affect the future." Macaque, interested: "Huh. I have a similar ability, though it's not very reliable. I need the wind to pass by my ears and block out everything else to get something tangible." Stranger: "I know. Your title is Six Eared Macaque for a reason." Macaque, suspicious: "So you know who I am..." Stranger: "I do not wish any harm. I only wish to see the little one who's altered so much of the future. Even I was taken aback by what was changed..." Macaque, cautious: "You can look at them. But if he makes a single chirp, you're history." Stranger, carefully peers past the sling: "I understand. He's too precious. Your lives are enriched tenfold by his presence. Which is why I was surprised to see him born so early this time." Macaque: "This time? Do you mean-" Wukong:, some distance away "Moon! Master found a place for us to stay for the night! Time to regroup!" Stranger: "That's my cue to leave. I don't need the sight of the chaos to tell me that Mama isn't keen on well-wishers at the moment. Take care of that child, Liu'er Mihou. And take care of Sun Wukong. They're the only reason you breath at this moment." Macaque: "Wait! What do you mean-!" Stranger: (*transforms into a green bird and flies away*) Wukong, catches up: "Who was that Mihou?" Macaque, holds out baby for Wukong: "I dunno. Some demon with fortune-telling abilities wanting to see the cub. Says he has far to go in the future." Wukong, taking the baby into his arms: "Hopefully not a future as as eventful as our pasts. How's my little apricot doing?" Xiaotian: (*lazily yawns, having slept through the whole encounter. Reaches out chubby little hands to his parent.*) Macaque, smiling fondly: "Nah. Nothing big. Xiaotian is going to have a childhood we never got. A normal one." Wukong, sly smile as he cuddles the baby: "Oh, is it Xiaotian now?" Macaque: (*blushes as he realises*) Wukong: "Did you finally come around to my naming suggestion? Or did the fortune-teller say you would?" Macaque, still sheepish: "Whatever, sunshine."

A certain green bird would appear from time to time after this encounter. Mostly watching from afar to make sure that the little family stayed safe and out of harm's way. Macaque and Wukong were always suspicious of the creature, but it soon left without much explanation.

Xiangliu is happy that Xiaotian managed to find another way to be born before his time. Hopefully he'll have more time to prepare for what is to come...

#jttw stone egged au #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #qi xiaotian #lmk mk #lmk xiangliu #lmk nine headed demon #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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grahamkennedy · 2 months

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this might sound kinda stupid, but following your blog has genuinely had a huge imapct on the way i think about us-centrism online. Im australian too, and after reading your posts I began to notice that I avoid using regional words or talking about moveis/tv/music that i thought american people wouldn't know about. but why should i have to?! its such a simple realisation, but it was pretty powerful to me! you know, i have to learn about 1001 specific american brand names to understand half the jokes on here, but i feel embarrassed talking about idk.. netball?? the impulse to explain any australian specific experience that i mention so that the usamericans can understand it is so annoying! why do i feel the need to have to do that?? I've been trying to get over my cultural cringe surrounding australian art and literature for a while, but i sort of didnt realise how deeply it was ingrained for simple, everyday stuff. its also made me really quite angry too. because in many ways australia IS so similar to the us. yet so many people in the notes of posts about australia are just so deeply apathetic about learning (or even just being respectful of) any sort of cutural differences. needless to say, this often ends up leading to people spouting very colonialist ideas and just being very plainly and obviously racist against indigenous people. but the gleeful ingorance about any country other than than the us is staggering. everyone online has to have an in depth knowledge about us politics, but no one can make a post about the politics of their own country without being forced to dumb it down so that an american audience with no prior knowledge can understand it. sorry for the rant! i wasnt planning on writing this much (or getting this annoyed) but it kind of got away from me! anyway, i love your blog lol <3

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK

I've been thinking of how to reply but the problem is I'm kind of stupid so I didn't know how.

I first started getting super annoyed by this when I got into The Newsreader. It was something I thought 'this has so many themes and ideas and characters that people would so be into' but then as it gained popularity, people, mostly American, got really weird about it. I got an ask that I was very nice about at the time but retroactively pissed me off, being like "well its about Australian history, can an American still watch it???". I noticed similar attitudes popping up, and getting more popular from Sam Reid fans who came over from IWTV.

I think as people who live with USCentrism every day, we still shouldn't get complacent and limit ourselves to Western world views, especially white ones. We need to broaden our horizons as well and also understand the place we have in Western imperialism.

But I'm glad more people are actually starting to understand how prevalent USCentrism is and I'm more than happy to be part of the conversation.

Thaaaaaankkkkk u for this ask.

#flood warning

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historicity-was-already-taken · 8 months

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What I'm actually furious about, isn't just the anti-Semitism I've dealt with here.

What I'm furious at is the Israeli government and military. I am furious that they have the nerve to perpetrate war crimes while appropriating the memory of the 6 million. It makes me sick. It feels me with rage. It fills me with feelings of betrayal (those are complex and require deconstruction, discussed briefly below). How dare they massacre children, civilians, and fucking hospital patients; and how dare they do so while using the 6 million as a rhetorical shield?

The edgelord who left me a snide remark comparing the situation in Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto wasn't the first person to make that comparison to me. It was actually the Palestinian woman who translated two major sources from Hebrew into English for me.

She was translating a biography of Tossia Altman when her three nephews and sister-in-law were murdered during the IDF action in Gaza. I asked her if she wanted to stop working on the project (with no impact on her fee for the project, of course; that's where about $4000 of the money y'all helped me raise went, fyi). The brand of Zionism practiced by Tossia and her comrades is very very different from the version embodied in Netanyahu, and it was those schools of Zionism which mostly died in the Holocaust (I said), but I would completely understand if the material was too triggering for her.

She said "I’m not sure about this triggering me, I think holocaust survivors and Gazans are on the same boat to tell you the truth. It could be an opportunity for me to actually fathom the full picture, in a way." And I haven't stopped thinking about it since.

I'm not going to post the rest of our conversation here, for what I hope are obvious reasons. And for concerned parties, this woman has been living away from Gaza for a very long time.

But this is why I'm so angry and emotional.

And I'm over here having these, frankly, very painful, personal feelings (if my posts over the last 4 months haven't made it clear, I spent my teen years in an extremely manipulative right wing Israel "education" program, and was raised surrounded by first and secondhand Holocaust trauma which inevitably impacted how my elders educated me about The Conflict none of which I was fully able to deconstruct until I became a Holocaust Historian in grad school). Especially with my knowledge of how SHITTILY Holocaust survivors were treated when they got to Palestine in the mid-1940s; of how fucking disgracefully Yad Vashem treated Rachel Auerbach and Yitzhak Zuckerman. Of the way the Jewish fighters actually died in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. I became a Holocaust historian because I am the great/granddaughter of survivors and I do this work because it's a fucking calling, not something that brings me joy. And the goddamn Israeli government, the government of a nation which likes to say it exists for all Jews (when it barely even represents the Jews who live there but that's a different conversation); the way that government manipulates and misuses that history to excuse their actions in Gaza make me fucking sick. And, as demonstrated by some of you actual fucking pieces of shit, puts Diasporic Jews in danger. (side thought: Does Netanyahu WANT to put Diasporic Jews in danger?? He knows how this fucking shit works, and I wouldn't be surprised if he WANTED Jews to feel deeply unsafe and respond to that by fleeing to Israel).

And WHILE I'm experiencing all of this and trying to keep it all together while writing the what may be the most important thing I've ever written in my career, you fucking [word I don't use out loud or in writing] come in here and to throw your anti-Semitic bullshit at me when I ask you to please not spew it at me via my (year old) fucking Holocaust Remembrance Day posts, and when I ask you to be fucking mindful of it in your political speech.

So let me make it fucking clear, as far as I am concerned there are 4 separate conversations at play rn.

1) October 7 was horrific, genocidal, and traumatizing for Jews on a global basis.

2) Israel is committing heinous war crimes in Gaza right now which, if its own military's statements are anything to go by, are actively genocidal.

3) You shouldn’t harass random Jewish people because you’re disgusted with Israeli governmental and military decisions and actions.

4) The Israeli government’s appropriation of Holocaust memory within its larger state building project doesn’t give you [collective: non-Jews] the right to abuse Jews for discussing and generally having feelings about the Holocaust.

And FRANKLY I think all those conversations are accurate and valid. I also don't think I'm obligated to tear my heart open give you all my intimate feelings because a bunch of pieces of shit on this site can't grasp points 3 and 4.

So fuck that right wing program I belonged to as a teen, fuck you fucking left wing anti-Semites who can's grasp that you're touting the ideologies of people who would have wanted you dead, and fuck the Israeli government for committing war crimes. fuck them for their ongoing abuse of palestinian civil and human rights, and fuck them for invoking the memory of the 6million while doing it.

I've fucking had it with that fucking State, I've had it with you goddamn Jew-haters, and I've had it with the Jewish ppl who might want to destroy my career upon seeing this post.

I am mad as HELL.

I'm not even saying my mental health break is over. I've just had a moment of clarity, my period is over, and I'm pissed as hell. i'm tired of policing myself to make the gentiles who hate me comfortable; and I'm tired of policing myself to make my coreligionists who'd destroy me for having these thoughts comfortable. and there are 122,000 if you, so i don't care if you're so fucking fragile that this post makes you hit the unfollow button.

tl;dr:

youtube

#historians are impacted by their work #shocker

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fubblers · 2 months

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[Transcript in Alt Text]

Sharing this quick NYT article because I think a lot of people struggle to find community these days. Not all of us have a third space which means you have to do the labor of finding or creating a third space.

I saw a post recently that talked about how Small Talk may be boring and shallow, but it’s a step toward Big Talk. I use small talk as a way to signal to people “hi I’m friendly and I want to get to know you better!”

Just as this article indicates, there are places where you can practice small talk.

Additionally, there’s probably spaces around you that you didn’t know about if you live in a city. I know small towns aren’t always going to have a wealth of queer leftist spaces, but it’s worth looking around.

Instagram sucks but it’s the way like 90% of 15-35 year olds seem to network with each other nowadays. I made an Instagram out of necessity because it’s how I got plugged into a bunch of communities. A lot of cool community events only advertise on Instagram and literally no where else. There might be a club for your special interest 20 minutes away from you that you would never know about because no one has a dang website anymore.

There’s also always the good old library! I joined a zine club at one of my local libraries and it’s been really refreshing. It’s mostly kids that attend but I’ve brought some adult friends along and I’m really getting to know the librarian that runs it. In fact, the zinester that runs it connected with me on Instagram and I found out we have a lot of political beliefs in common and I expect to become friends!

This is the part where I advertise zines as well. Once you start joining these groups you should make zines lol. Look up how to make a one page mini zine and put stuff in it that your circle would be interested. If it’s a model train club, write about the history of model trains and pass it out to your buds! If it’s a public speaking class, summarize some of the tips you’ve learned and pass it out as a sort of cheat sheet to the other students! You can hand write it and just copy it at the library!

Then you literally just put your social media handle, email, phone number, whatever, on the back! People can start connecting with you! Then after your class or club is over you might get a message like “hey let’s grab coffee!”

I’m not kidding at all! Go to your local game stores yugioh tournament and pass out your mini booklet about yugioh strategies!!

It gives people a great starting point to talk to you. And you might have people walk over and say “hey are you passing those out? Can I have one? I’m [name] by the way.” And congrats you’ve started step one of making a friend.

#zines #zinester #New York times

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jpitha · 11 months

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You have to understand.

At least at first, I didn’t mean to do it. I had just gotten out of College, a kid with a degree in History and an eye watering amount of debt. I made the mistake of telling the professor I did early 21st century historical reenactments for my summer job and he let me take on a titanic amount of debt for historical realism. I’m not sure who I owe the money to, since we live in a post scarcity society, but I sure worry about repaying it, so I have that going for me. Extra points for realism.

After I graduated - with an ulcer from stress worrying about the debt, another point for realism! - I was bumming around the orbital looking for a way to earn some quick cash and I realized how I could put my degree to use. Everyone has everything provided for them by the government because - after the Unpleasantness - we figured out that was easier and cheaper than giving everyone on the planet a gun.

But that means that everyone has mostly forgotten how to keep an eye out for scams. Who is going to scam you anyway when you all have the same access to cheap and easy housing, food, and Space Cocaine?

People who have mountains of debt due to historical accuracy, that’s who.

I set up shop right outside the exit from Customs on the station. Rubes-er People from all over the Galaxy would come, hellbent on seeing the sights of my planet and before they could hit up the Cøffee Haüs they would find me.

I started small; ran a couple of three card monte tables, but without a partner, convincing people they could win without them actually winning was tough. I hacked a janitorbot into being my assistant and soon enough I would have a crowd watching.

This, while effective was incredibly boring, so I changed to my plan B and just started making fake supplements. For maximum compatibility across all of the galactic species, mine were pure carbon (to absorb toxins you see). This increased who I could sell too without worrying (too much) about inadvertently poisoning anyone.

A few people were sad I moved away from scamming people with cards, but they became my first ‘partners’ in selling my supplement. I had to actually explain how a Ponzi scheme worked though, nobody remembered. I told them about how so long as they found more suckers underneath them, they wouldn’t be left holding the bag and it took off like an oxygen accelerated fire.

There was also an oxygen accelerated fire, but that can’t be traced back to me.

Three weeks later, I was the richest human in the Galaxy. Honesty, I didn’t even know where everyone even got the money, I thought we had eliminated it, but here I am, rich as hell. I feel a little bad about it, but if I admit the whole thing was a ploy to pay off my student loans, I worry that they’ll turn on me.

I still haven’t paid off my loans either. I don’t think I can swing the payments and the payments on my Super Dreadnought. Did you know they’ll build anyone one so long as you put the deposit down?

Anyway, do you want to get in on an incredible deal on the low effort world of supplement sales?

#writing #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians

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catacombbee · 3 months

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school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

#woah sunny fucking rants #sunnys headcanons!#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg headcanons #aiden clark #ashlyn banner #tyler hernandez #logan fields #taylor hernandez #ben clark #sbg aiden #sbg logan #sbg tyler #sbg ashlyn #sbg taylor #sbg ben

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ltleflrt · 2 years

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This whole backlash against printing fics irks the fuck out of me, and I got some shit to say about it. Mostly "Fuck You" but here's some nuance:

On the surface, I understand where the naysayers are coming from. It's a legitimate fear that making a profit from fanworks will bring down the C&D Hammer on fandom. I get that. Do not put on the One Ring, or you'll risk the Eye of Sauron.

But here's the thing. Fuck capitalism. Fuck digital only. We're living in the digital dark ages, and 100 years from now huge swathes of our history, fact and fiction, will be lost to our descendants because there will be no physical copies of our lives for them to find in old libraries and boxes in the attic, etc.

Creators deserve physical copies of their creations, and so do the other people in the world who love them.

I don't want to profit from letting people print my fics. That's why I use Lulu, since they have an option to set zero profit and make the links hidden so only fans in the know can get a copy. Other printing sites I've looked at in the past don't have those options. In fact, the first time I ever even thought about printing one of my stories was when I won NaNo for the first time and one of the prizes was a coupon for 3 free printings of your story. HELL YEAH, that's a copy for me, a copy for my beta, and a copy for the artist who made the cover for me. Perfect! But I ended up not using that coupon, because the site required I set a profit margin, and did not have an option to make it private. Ummm, no thanks. Not worth the risk. And even though the profit margin could be set as low as ten cents, I did not want to make ANY money from my fic, because I know that would be breaking Fair Use rules. I found Lulu instead, and decided to let other people get copies too, because I'm nice. And if I don't, it's not like I can stop them from doing it themselves, no matter how much I'd rather they not do that.

But that's not good enough for the Reporting Trolls. Their argument is that it's not possible for it to be completely profit free, since Lulu makes a profit on the printing costs and the shipping carriers make a profit off the shipping costs. Someone is making a profit, and that's unacceptable, even if that someone is not Me, The Person Who Made The Printing and Shipping Worth Paying For.

I would like anyone who thinks that to delete your accounts where you read fanfiction. AO3, Wattpad, FFNet, LJ, Dreamwidth, hell even Tumblr for the short ficlet stuff that only gets posted here. Because even if the website it self isn't profiting, (AO3 for example), the companies that sold them their server hardware made a profit. Since utilities are privatized, the electric company that runs those servers are making a profit. IF YOU PRINT IT ON YOUR PRINTER AND PUT IT IN A 3 RING BINDER, the paper, printer, and ink manufacturers made a profit from your dinky little print out. The companies that build all the parts for your computer or your smartphone made a profit on your portal to the internet, who profits from your monthly subscription, just like your electric company profits from the power it takes to run your pc or charge your phone battery. IT'S A SLIPPERY FUCKING SLOPE, AND YOU NEED TO LEARN WHEN TO BACK AWAY FROM THE LEDGE.

We live in a Capitalist Hellscape, and if a company could figure out how to charge you to breathe and for every single beat of your heart, they'd fucking do it. So get off your goddamn high horses with this "wELL SoMEonE iS makINg PrOFit" bullshit. Or if you truly believe that, shut off every account you own, turn off your utilities, and go live in the woods and make up your own goddamn stories, which you can only share orally to the local wildlife. They give kudos by biting you and giving you rabies.

(not to mention; these assholes don't go after fanartists who are ABSOLUTELY making a profit off their work. but noooo, Flirty can't format a fic for print and allow other people to pay for the printing service and shipping, while never seeing a penny of that herself, despite all of the GODDAMN WORK I HAVE PUT INTO IT, WRITING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE INCLUDED FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufucky--)

#ltleramblings #printed fic

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of-many-aus · 1 year

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Less Than Ideal Living Situations

Summary: you and jake are put into a situation that is less than ideal

Warning: slight mention of violence

A/N: I’m kinda worried that this sucks; but also, feel free to send in requests for one shots for this series if you feel like it!!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You would like to reiterate the fact that this was completely Natasha Trace’s fault. Nothing about this did you do on your own free will.

She was the one who began the school year by commuting to classes after she got an apartment off campus with her boyfriend of two years, leaving you roommate-less.

True, she had apologized over and over again and even offered to keep being your roommate and give up the chance of staying with her boyfriend, but you wouldn’t let her. You were her best friend after all, and what kind of friend would you be if you kept her from happiness on your own selfish accords?

So, you reassured her that it was fine and you would find new living arrangements. She didn’t have to worry about you.

Turns out, she probably should have been worried. Because after posting up flyers all over the campus and social media- offering a room in your apartment for anyone who would like to accept your offer- not a single reply came your way.

That was when you really began to stress out.

It was one day until roommates had to be finalized, and you didn’t have one.

You had even begun to contemplate how you could trick the college staff into thinking that you were still with Nat, but not a single idea that could actually be done without breaking a couple of laws came to mind.

Then, a notification came through on your phone halfway through history class. Someone had accepted your offer.

The relief and joy that spread through you was almost too overpowering to even read the name of the person that would be your new roommate.

Jake Seresin.

Star player of your college's baseball team with an ego larger than the campus and a reputation to back it up.

The two of you had literature together. That is, when he actually bothered to show up. And when he did, he would mostly sleep through it. The only reason he wasn’t failing any of his classes was because your school couldn’t afford losing the best baseball player they had seen in over fifteen years. According to the gossiping group of girls you overheard in the dining hall, that is.

It was clearly too close to the final date to change it and desperately try to search everywhere for somebody else- anybody else- so now, you would just have to suffer through it.

“-and then, I went to go check on Jake, only to find him face down on the lawn.” Bradley Bradshaw, first baseman for the baseball team, laughed, shifting the box in his arms, “So naturally, we all just decided roommates without him. I mean, he should have seen it coming. There’s an odd number of us, including our manager, so of course one of us is going to have to find a different living arrangement- he just shouldn’t have missed it. It’s a good thing he saw your ad though, or else he might be living in the alley behind the campus kitchen-“

The man had been happily chatting your ear off for the last hour now, as he helped his friend unload all of his stuff into your apartment. And while he seemed nice enough, you just wished he would stop talking. You were exhausted and, quite frankly, nervous about the whole situation, so you weren’t exactly in a chatty mood.

Both of you walked through the door of your apartment after trudging up the stairs for the tenth time

“Rooster, leave the girl alone. You’re gonna scare my new roommate away.” Jake's voice floated smoothly through his lips and reached your ears in a way that made you shiver. You now had to live with this man.

Bradley grinned, “You don’t need me for that, Hangman, I trust that you’re gonna do that all by yourself.”

It was an annual tradition at your school that every athlete as a freshman in your sports centered college would get a nickname that would follow along with them for the rest of their years.

You gave the blond a tight lipped smile, “Not yet scared away.”

The man beside you dropped the box onto the ground beside all the other ones, “Welp, that’s the last of them, Bagman.”

Your smile morphed into a small, genuine one as you turned to face him, “Thank you for the help.”

He threw a playful wink at you, “Anytime. Just give me a call if Seresin is giving you any trouble. I’ll rough him up for you.”

A laugh left your lips as Bradley gave you a two finger salute before turning on his heel and exiting your apartment, ignoring the warning look his teammate was giving him.

There was a silence that followed Bradshaw's absence, as if any form of conversation had been taken by the hand and led out by the man.

Jake cleared his throat, drawing your eyes to lock with his devastatingly green ones, “Thank you again for letting me live here.”

There was a sort of sincerity in his voice that would have made you do a double take if you weren’t already looking at him. It was a tone that you never in a million years would have expected to hear out of him.

You coughed lightly, forcing yourself to roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, didn’t have much choice.”

His look didn’t falter like you had expected it to, “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need any help unpacking.” You desperately needed to get out of this situation.

He waved his hand dismissively, “I think I can manage.”

With that, you practically scurried off to your room, tightly closing the door behind you before sliding your back down it until your legs were curled up to your chest.

Your hand flailed to the side, gripping onto a pillow from your bed and bringing it into your lap before shoving your face into it and screaming, letting it muffle the sound.

So yes, this was completely Natasha Trace's fault. You were stuck in a small apartment with the last person you would ever had thought, and you would never let her hear the end of it.

Taglist: @djs8891 @pono-pura-vida @shanimallina87 @melllinaa @callsignbirdy @fogle97 @randomfandomgirl97

#take me out to the ball game series #jake seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin au #top gun x you #top gun x reader #top gun x y/n #baseball au #top gun au #college au

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golbrocklovely · 11 months

Text

mr. fantastic // sam golbach

A/N: first off, sorry this is getting posted so late. had to make some last minute revisions. so, for this one and colby's fic later on, i need to give some slight context. basically in both of these, they are AUs were snc are corrupt ppl, or have a bit of a corruption aspect to their personalities. some of these fics are/can be seen as dark, so i totally get if you don't feel comfortable reading it. just give a good look over of the trigger warnings and see how you feel. if you do enjoy it, please lmk what you think. also this fic is very vaguely based off the boys, the tv show/comic book series. sam is a smidge (and i mean a very tiny amount) reminiscent of homelander. do with that information as you will. happy haunting!

prompt: everyone around you loves sam, or as he's commonly known as - mr. fantastic. but you can see right through his facade. but when he starts winning over your friends, you know something is going on, and it's not good. || AU!superhero!sam x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, enemies-to-lovers, you used to have a crush on sam in high school and now he's a superhero, superhero!sam, corrupt!sam, twist ending, i would say a hint of dubcon (but y/n never says no or stop, but just to be on the safe side i'm letting yall know), manipulation via powers and magical handcuffs (it will make sense in the story lol), hate fucking/rough sex, unprotective sex, cursing, mentions of: babygirl, slut, good girl, my girl, baby, degrading language

word count: 6769

I couldn't stand him, or anyone else like him. Everyone praised the ground he walked on, but me? Every time I saw him, he made me sick to my stomach.

Well, maybe not sick. But I did hate seeing his dumb, stupid face.

You would think with superheroes becoming known to the public, life would get easier. Crime would go down, more criminals would be off the streets, and the overall quality of life would skyrocket. But that just wasn't factually accurate. Did you know in my city alone, the crime rate has gone up 25% since last year? And what exactly are the superheroes doing about it? Causing more destruction and chaos. I swear, bad things only truly started happening once they came out to the public all those years ago.

The only saving grace I had in my life was that I wasn't alone in my feelings towards superheroes. I had my two best friends, Macie and Rachel, and they both felt the same way I did. Especially towards the best-known superhero in our city, Mr. Fantastic. His real name was Sam Golbach, and I hated him deeply.

He and I had history, you could say. We both went to the same high school. We were both nerdy, and just overall losers. We graduated and moved away to the same city, and then a couple years ago, all of a sudden, he is shown on the news as the newest superhero to save us. It made no sense to me because I remember him from high school. He never had powers. And there's no way that he, the guy that got shoved into lockers and made fun of for being a band nerd, would have tolerated being bullied like that if his powers were super strength and flight. And not only that, but the way the news describes his upbringing: it's all a lie! They paint him to be this all-American boy. They say he was a jock and just a bit shy for most of his life until finally growing into his powers at 19. Most superheroes get their powers by 16, so that alone should be telling that something is off with him. But no. Everyone just believes the lies he tells them. And that is why I hate him.

I may also hate him because I had a huge crush on him in high school and he never gave me the time of day. But I mostly hate him for all of the superhero stuff, not the high school bullshit.

Mostly.

It was like any other normal Tuesday in our office. Our manager, Sally, would bring in donuts, George would make some comment about the week moving too slowly, and around ten o'clock we would all have to stop working to watch the daily superhero news. It was mandatory in our office, as our jobs revolved around fixing superheroes’ fuck ups.

It was almost ten, and we all sat around the flatscreen hanging in the middle of one of our bigger conference rooms, waiting for the news to begin. I glanced around, noticing that Rachel wasn't in. I furrowed my brow, leaning towards Macie.

"Have you seen Rach?" I asked.

She shrugged, "No but I talked to her last night and she seemed fine. Maybe she's just running late or is taking a half day."

I hummed, "Maybe..."

The news turned on loudly, quieting everyone in the office. I leaned back in my chair, sighing deeply. God, please let today be a normal, boring news day.

"Hello everyone, thank you all for coming out this morning," the police commissioner nodded his head, looking at the audience that had formed outside of the precinct. "As always, we like to start with the positives and then move onto the, uh, wreckage. Please hold all questions until the end of the press conference. And now, I pass the stand to Mr. Fantastic."

A bunch of people clapped in the office, some wooing lowly. I grimaced, rolling my eyes the moment he popped on screen.

"Good morning, hello. Oh no need for cheering, thank you. You're too kind," He smiled brightly, shushing the crowd politely. "First, like I always say during these press conferences, thank you for letting me protect this city. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I couldn't protect the lovely citizens of this place."

"You'd probably be working at a Burger King by now." I mumbled, getting close to Macie. She snickered, gazing back at the screen.

"So last night was eventful, like most nights here. I was able to stop two car jackings, and finally put an end to the mask thief that's been vandalizing all of the inner city's school buses. You can all be glad that today, your kids are riding on safe, clean transit." Sam pointed, giving his trademark wink and smile.

I groaned, lulling my head back in the chair. Could this day get any more boring?

"I also have some fantastic news to share with you all," He chuckled, the crowd following suit. "I saved a special young woman from a purse nabbing and possible assault last night around 2:30. Now as you all know, I know many of the people I save like to remain anonymous, but this one really wanted to let you all know how she felt. And of course, I just can't say no to any of you. So please, allow me to give her the floor." He let out another laugh, backing away from the mic. I glanced at the clock, realizing only five minutes had passed. God must have been punishing me, specifically.

Suddenly, everyone in the room gasped, Macie being the loudest. She slapped my leg, pointing at the tv. I turned and my eyes widened at the sight. Rachel, with tears welling up in her eyes, stood at the podium, smiling brightly. "Thank you all. I just wanted to say that Mr. Fantastic," she turned to him giving him a sensual gaze, "Sam, is one of the best superheroes around. This man saved my life, and I couldn't be more grateful for him. He is amazing and so handsome, and this city should be thankful to have a man like him. I love you, Sam. Thank you so much."

She reached over, giving him a huge hug. He accepted her embrace, allowing her to run her hands almost up and down his body too many times.

My mouth dropped open, unable to comprehend what I was watching. Rachel hated Sam just as much as I did. Literally last week she wished a car would fall out of the sky and squish him because he held up her commute stopping a supervillain from breaking out of the state prison. And now she was on tv, basically ready to suck his dick, because he saved her!

Macie and I looked at each other, knowing we needed to talk to Rach as soon as possible. I sent Rach a quick text, telling her to meet us at our usual lunch spot.

~~~~

My eyes narrowed at Rachel, her smile irritating me. "Please, repeat the story one more time for me."

"Okay, if I must," she giggled. "Last night I went to the corner store because I was craving some ice cream. As I was walking home, a man rushed me and stole my purse. I tried to chase after him but couldn't catch him. He ran across the street, and out of the shadows... there was Sam. He swooped in, grabbed the man, roughed him up, and got my purse back to me. God, it was seriously so hot to see him in action like that."

Rach lightly fanned herself, and I had to hold back my vomit.

"So, he saved you, gave you your purse back. And then what?" Macie questioned.

She continued, "He walked me home and... I woke up this morning knowing I had to thank him for saving my life. So on my way to work, I stopped by the police station, saw him and begged him to let me speak at the conference."

I blinked hard, "He didn't save your life. You weren't threatened. Some random dude just stole your purse."

She pouted, "Yeah, but he saved me so much hassle of having to call my credit card companies and tell them to shut everything off and having to get a new I.D.-"

I jumped in, "I get that, and I'm not trying to downplay it, but like.... last week you wanted a car to fall out of the sky on top of him."

"And the week before that we betted on the subway crushing him between the tracks during that pipe burst. What's changed?" Macie argued, taking a sip of her coffee.

"He saved me," she stated plainly, with a soft smile. "You know, I think we've been so focused on this idea of him that I think if we got to really know him, we would know he's a great guy."

"Have you forgotten that he is lying to the public about his upbringing and reputation? Or the fact any time he saves someone, there is destruction in his wake that our company has to clean up, causing our jobs to be more difficult?" I scowled at her, unable to hold back.

She rolled her eyes hard, "Oh, come off it, Y/N. The only reason you care about that is because he rejected you in high school and you're too hung up on it."

"Excuse me?" I deadpanned.

Rach crossed her arms defiantly. "You heard me. I will no longer be a part of your rain-on-Sam parade. He is an amazing man. And a great superhero."

"Even if any of that were true, you gotta admit that this 180 you're doing is weird. You fucking hated him last night." Macie argued.

"And now I want to marry him." Rach smirked.

My eyes widened, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"If you want me to be honest, I'll say it. I think he is the man of my dreams and everything I could hope for in a partner. I want him, and I hope he'll have me." She turned to Macie, almost giggling, "I slipped him my number at the conference."

"You can't be fucking serious, Rach." I groaned.

"I just know he’s great in the bedroom..." Rach thought out loud.

"Oh... so you've completely lost it. Good to know." I remarked, taking a quick sip of my coffee.

"Don't be jealous of our love. Maybe one day he'll save you too." She quipped.

I laughed sarcastically, "I would rather get crushed by a car, thanks."

~~~~

Two weeks had passed since Rach's incident with Sam. We hadn't been talking to one another all that much, just casual conversation in passing. Maybe she was right to some extent. Maybe I was holding onto this hatred for Sam just because he didn't care about my existence back when we were kids. I should let it go, and stop being such a hater.

At least, I thought that way, until this morning.

I had tunnel vision as I glared at the tv, unable to peel my eyes away as I watched the news. Another press conference. Another day of kissing Sam's ass. But this time, he again introduced another woman that wanted to thank him publicly. And this time... it was Macie.

Her spiel was the same, her mannerisms almost identical to Rach's speech. I watched, my mouth a gaped, as she thanked Sam profusely for saving her from the purse nabber. She leaned up and kissed his cheek multiple times, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt desperately.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. There's no way that this was actually happening. Something fishy was going on, and it had everything to do with Sam. I fucking knew he was trouble. I just needed to get proof.

I met with Macie alone at our usual spot. I begged her to tell me everything in detail, and her story was eerily similar to Rachel's.

"So a guy stole your purse as you left some club, Sam got it back to you, walked you home, and then you woke up today knowing you had to tell the world how great he is." I reiterated her story, annoyed.

"Exactly. He really is truly a fantastic guy." She snorted, rolling her eyes, "Oh my God, sorry. Such a bad pun."

"Yeah... that." I blinked, holding in my rage. "So, you don't happen to feel the same way as Rach, tho, right? Like... you're not in love with him?"

She thought about it for a moment, "I do think he's amazing, and I would love to be married to him... So I guess you could say yeah. I am in love. Am I blushing?"

I sighed deeply, "What exactly changed? I know he saved you, or your purse, and that's great. I'm so happy he did that. But what exactly made you wake up today and feel this need to wish to have his children?"

"I don't know. It's like... this light just switched off in my head. I just feel that deep down in my soul, I want to be his. And I really hope he'll have me." She smiled dreamily.

Hearing her say almost the exact same thing as Rach made my composure crack. "Do you hear yourself? You want to be his?! He is a douchey superhero who makes our jobs harder, and not to mention barely does anything to actually help the crime rate in this city! He got you your purse back, and all of sudden you want to... be his? You can't be serious."

She shook her head, glaring. "You know, I think Rach was right. You are jealous of the love he and I share, all because he rejected you."

"He didn't even reject me! He didn't know I existed! There's a difference," I took a breath, trying to calm down. "You don't think it's odd that all of sudden you want to have his children? You don't even want to have kids."

Macie ignored me, continuing her argument. "Either way, you come across really bitter and I hope if he comes to save you, you change your attitude. To be held in his arms would be a dream come true."

She stood up dramatically, leaving the restaurant in a huff.

~~~~

After the shitty month I had, I needed to buy some alcohol to drink my troubles away. Rach and Macie hadn't talked to me since their "savings", so work had become even more tedious and annoying. And now, it seemed like I was the only one in the office that didn't like Sam. Morale had really gone up once he saved two of our coworkers, and I had to quietly sit there, pretending I did despise the man or the situation as a whole.

As I walked home from the liquor store, I noticed how quiet the streets had become as I got closer to my apartment. It was like anyone that was out on the street moments ago disappeared. There were sirens off in the distance and the light rumble of the subway underneath the streets. The low buzz of the street light above me caught my eye, and as I looked up, the light flickered. A chill ran up my spine suddenly.

Okay, maybe I was just freaking myself out for no reason.

A body slammed into mine from behind, almost knocking me flat on the ground. A man wrestled my bag out of my hand, sprinting off down the street.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" I screamed. I began to chase after him, my speed not even remotely catching up to him.

My thoughts swirled of all the things I had in that bag. My wallet, my phone, and my key to get into my apartment. I groaned loudly, annoyed.

Where the fuck were any of the superheroes when you needed them?

The man ducked into an alleyway, a loud crash coming from there. I ran to where he was, finding him passed out in the street. His nose had blood running down it, like someone punched him. My purse was nowhere in sight.

"Are you looking for this?" A voice said from behind me.

I spun on my heels, coming face-to-face with Mr. Fantastic himself, Sam.

I opened my mouth to speak but was unable to say anything. I had so much I wanted to say, but couldn't decide on what.

"No need to be shocked, miss. I know, superheroes are a lot to take in." He smiled softly.

Hearing his voice brought me out of my stupor. "That's not why I'm shocked. You kinda just... came out of nowhere."

His face dropped, surprised by my tone. "Oh..."

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, both unsure what to say next.

He reached out, my purse in his hand. "Um, here you go, Miss...?"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N." I stated.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He complimented me.

"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled. "And thank you for getting my purse back. It means a lot."

"It's all in a day's work. Or night's technically." His well-known laugh escaped his lips.

I blinked, slowly walking away from him, "Yeah.... Anyway, I gotta get back home. It's late, and I wanna get drunk."

"Oh, well, why don't I walk you home?" He asked, keeping in step with me.

"I don't think there's any need to." I argued politely.

"No, let me. It's clearly unsafe on these streets." Sam responded.

"Well, you just stopped the purse nabber... again. For the third time. Maybe this time he can finally get arrested." I smiled bitterly, trying not to sound it.

"The police have already been called and they are on their way. So, why don't I walk you home?" He stopped in front of me, looking me in the eyes genuinely. "I will be worried if I don't make sure you get there safely."

I exhaled, "...Okay, fine."

I walked home silently, not wanting to speak to Sam. He stepped in time with me, never speaking. I almost forgot he was with me, until he cleared his throat once or twice.

I pointed up at my building, pulling my keys out to go inside, "Well, we're here. Thanks for walking me home, I gotta get upstairs and get to drinking. So, goodbye."

"Wait, before you go up, can I ask you something?" He queried.

I squeezed my eyes shut, opening them again and turning back to him. "Sure, I guess."

He crossed his arms, cocking his head. "How did you know I stopped the purse nabber before? Those were such minor crimes I solved; I'm surprised anyone would remember them."

"Well, you didn't really solve the crime since clearly the man never got put away." I retorted; my voice sickeningly sweet.

Sam raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to answer his previous question.

"My friends were the two you saved." I deadpanned.

"Oh really, what a small world." He pursed his lips in thought, "Their names were... Rachel and Macie, correct?"

"Yep, them exactly." I nodded.

"They were kinda like you, in a way." He mentioned.

I furrowed my brow, "What do you mean by that?"

His tone shifted. It was no longer the public persona one he used on the news. Now, it was more... casual. Equally as snarky as mine. "They too didn't like me. Or were a little... snippy with me."

Oh, well if you wanna play like that... "Yeah, and weirdly now, they want your babies."

He faux-gasped. "What a strange turn of events."

"I guess you changed their minds. How exactly did you do that?" I glared at him, accusatory.

"My charming personality." He smirked.

"Right." I jeered.

"I mean, if you really want to know the answer, let me into your apartment," his voice was almost sultry, his eyes mischievous. "Let me have one drink with you."

I narrowed my gaze at him, blinking slowly. "You're serious."

"100%. But I mean, if you don't want to know, then I can just leave." He pointed to the street, backing away.

"No, you can come up." I felt this overwhelming sensation that I had made a grave mistake, but I continued. "But if for even a second you make me uncomfortable, I have every right to resend your invitation."

"You know I'm not a vampire, right?" Sam snickered. "I'll respect your wishes regardless, but you can't just kick me out that easily."

"Okay fine, if you don't get out of my house when I say so, I'll stab you. Got it?" I grinned crazily.

He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Feisty... Sure, I hear you loud and clear."

We walked up to my place, my eyes catching his form out of the corner of my eye. What the hell was I even doing? Why was I inviting this asshole to my apartment?

I mean, I know why. But God, I just hope this ends quickly.

I cleared my throat as we both stepped in. Sam glanced around my apartment, giving a soft whistle. "Fan-cy."

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was joking. "Well, some of us aren't government paid employees with apartments in skyrises."

"You are a very defensive person. Do you always feel like you're being attacked, or is that just your general tone with me?" He shot back.

"I guess you just bring it out of me." I popped the bottle of whiskey open, the sound reverberating as I smiled bitterly. I poured two cups, dropping a cube into both.

"You're into whiskey, huh?" He gave me a quick once over, "That's kinda sexy."

"No one asked." I raised my glass, "Cheers."

"To new beginnings." He toasted.

"Sure..." I took a long sip, the whiskey burning a little extra hard.

He let out a light cough. "Hooo, that's has a kick."

"So, are you gonna tell me how or why my friends all of sudden started liking you or not?" I asked coldly.

"You don't mess around." He chuckled.

"I only invited you up here for that reason." I replied honestly.

"It wasn't to sleep with me?" He hummed, "I'm surprised."

"I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth." I spat.

"Well, thank God I'm not." He quipped.

I placed my hands on my hips, annoyed. "So... the reason?"

Sam walked over to my living room, taking in everything. His eyes scanned my bookshelves, stopping suddenly. "Hey, how do you have this?"

I glanced up at the ceiling, hoping God could feel my glare from down here. "Have what?"

He pulled a book out, its green and white cover I knew all too well. "This yearbook. This is the school I went to, the year I graduated."

My heart dropped and I raced over to him, "Hey that's mine!"

He flew across the room easily, flipping through the book. "God, I haven't seen this in so long. But again, how did you get this?"

"Give it back to me." I demanded, stomping up to him.

"Wait a second. Is this you?" He opened up to a page with my high school portrait, little writings around it from friends of mine from back then.

I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks, making me speechless. I yanked the book out of his hands, going back to the bookshelf.

"You went to my high school. Wait, Y/N...." He gasped suddenly, "I remember you! Wow, you got a lot hotter."

"Thanks. Can't say the same for you." I grunted, hating how warm my face felt.

He spun me around, his eyes staring into mine. "Now, there's no need to lie to me."

"You don't understand personal space, do you?" I bitched, trying to push him back.

He barely moved; his eyes unchanging. "Am I not allowed to be close to you? Do I make you nervous or something?"

"No, I just hate your presence." I did my best to hide the shakiness in my voice, my body hitting the edge of my window and radiator.

"Strangely, you are the only woman that's like that." He jested, "Is it because you're hiding a crush or some-"

"No!" I cleared my throat, huffing. "No. I don't have a crush on you."

For a second it looked like he moved, his face holding back a smile. "Can you say that again for me?"

"I definitely have a crush on you." I breathed, my brain feeling like it buffered for a second. Why the fuck did I just say that?

He backed away, cocking his head. "Oh you do? Glad you could admit it."

"I wasn't admitting anything. I was just joking, and the joke is that I've had feelings for you since high school." I gasped, "What the fuck?!"

He teased, "I'm so happy you feel comfortable telling me the truth."

"Why am I saying this?" I whispered to myself.

He pointed down to my hand, "It probably has something to do with the handcuffs I put on you."

"Wha-?" I glanced down, and sure enough one of my wrists was handcuffed to the radiator by my window.

"You gotta be a bit more observant than that." He laughed sincerely, lounging on my couch.

I let out a ragged breath, pissed. "How the fuck did you-"

"Those handcuffs are really only meant to be used by me on criminals, that way they confess. But sometimes I like to use it for more..." He gazed at me longingly, "spicier reasons."

"You're a fucking creep." I hissed.

"And you're into it." He snapped.

"Yes I am." Oh my God...

He bit his lip, pleased at my answer. "So, your friends actually told me, without needing the handcuffs B-T-W, that you had a crush on me since high school. And now seeing you, I remember who you are. You were just as nerdy as me."

"Oh, at least you're admitting that now. Why, because there's no cameras around to lie to?" I sassed, pulling at the handcuffs.

"Hey, it's not a lie that I tell. I just... fib a bit." He settled into my couch, fluffing up one of the pillows, "I did play sports, so that would qualify me as a jock."

I scoffed, "Ping-pong is barely a sport."

"Says you," he grumbled. "But that can't be the only reason you hate me slash love me."

"I don't love you." I stated honestly.

"Oh, but you will," Sam uttered lowly. “You still didn't answer my question though. So, is it really just the crush bullshit?"

"No. It's not just that," I started. "You lied, not only about your upbringing. But your powers. You didn't have them in high school. You got bullied just as much as me, if not more so. If you had super strength, you would have kicked Joe's shins in."

He chuckled mockingly. "God, are you, like, obsessed with me? How do you know so much?"

"Joe bullied me too, dumbass. I'm not obsessed with you, I just don't understand you at all. And I know you're a liar. And I try to use those reasons to hide the feelings I still have," I groaned, pulling at the handcuffs more. "Jesus Christ get these handcuffs off!"

"Not yet," Sam commented. "So... you are right. I do lie, in a lot of ways, to the general public. Sometimes I throw in extra crimes I 'solved' during the night, when usually I'm just chilling at the 24-hour Taco Bell."

I gaped, "I fucking knew it!"

He sat up, sitting on the edge of the couch. "Jokes on you, it's actually the 24-hour Wendys."

"Why do you lie? People love you. There's no need to pretend." I argued.

"Ahh, but there is. I have a lot riding on me to be one of the best superheroes around." He remarked.

I hid my eye roll. "Like what?”

"You're right about one thing. I didn't have superpowers in high school. I wasn't born a superhero. When we graduated, an up-and-coming bio-tech company, Malusvir, reached out to random people asking if they wanted to be part of a study for $50k. I thought, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, might as well go see what's up. Go be a guinea pig for some money." Sam shook his head, his anger brewing, "Come to find out, they were testing out if they could grow superheroes."

"What the fuck?" I squeaked.

"I was injected a whole lot of times with... something. And while I was basically comatose for months, all of a sudden, superheroes started bursting on the scene. The government was finally letting them out of the bag, and they were allowing all heroes to sign up to become part of the Superheroes Task Force." Sam stood up, starting to pace. "When I awoke, I was one of the only ones that survived the trial run. This company ended up getting bought out by the government, and they covered it up by going bankrupt and saying they were making chemical weapons, which isn't technically wrong."

"Does the government know about you being... home grown?" I inquired.

"No. The bio-tech company used an alias for all of us, so no one found out. And the secrets disappeared with the CEO when he flew out of the country back to his home country and mysteriously died. I'm pretty sure he's just hiding. Or was killed for what he knew." He informed, his eyes almost glazing over.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" I questioned, confused.

"Because no one will believe you." He replied softly, his voice taking me back. Then, he switched back into his cocky self. "So... that's my story. But back to you, how long were you into me?"

"Since junior year." I confessed.

"You liked 17-year-old me?" He winced, "Oof, now that's a choice."

"So was that haircut." I quipped lightheartedly.

He leaned towards me, whispering. "And those cargo shorts."

I snickered, and he smiled genuinely for the first time.

A silence fell over us for a moment, then he looked up at me and asked nonchalantly. "So... do you wanna fuck?"

I choked, "What?"

"Is it really that surprising of a question? You're into me, and I find you hot," his eyes snaked down my body. "Especially handcuffed."

I stammered, "I-I don't-"

"Look, if you don't want to, understandable. I am a bit of a dick. But let me put it to you this way, have sex with me and get all that anger out that you feel towards me." He stepped closer to me, teasingly. "A good hate fucking helps out everyone involved, really."

I breathed, "You're insane."

"Or, if you have sex with me, and I'm bad... you can brag to your friends that I suck." He offered.

I sucked in a deep breath, already knowing my answer. "You raise a good point there."

"So, will you let me make you feel good or no?" He wrapped an arm around me tightly, bringing his face close. Our bodies were pressed together, my heart speeding up. "Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

"Yes I do." I admitted.

"See, and I didn't have to keep the handcuffs on you for you to tell the truth." He raised up his hand showing the cuffs, smirking.

I scoffed, shoving him back. "You are such a dick."

"And you love every second of it." He taunted, back up to the couch.

"I do, I can't lie." I bit my lip, staring at his mouth.

He sat down, pulling me towards him. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Fuck me like you hate me."

I straddled his lap, grinding down on him as our mouths connected. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, a moan falling from my lips. He gripped my ass, pushing me down more onto his lap. I yanked on his hair, digging my nails into his scalp and chest.

He winced, chuckling darkly as he pulled away from our kiss. "Oh you like it rough, baby?"

"Yeah." I smirked.

"Well good," he bunched up my shirt, tearing it away from my body suddenly. The ripping fabric fell apart in his hands and he chuckled darkly. I gasped loudly, a pleasurable chill running down my spine. "Me too."

I whined, "I liked that shirt."

"I don't care." He slammed his lips back onto mine quickly, taking my breath away. He nibbled on my lip, our teeth clashing together from the intensity of the kiss. I grinded myself against his growing bulge, my wet panties pressing into my sex achingly. I hadn't even realized how hot and bothered he had made me, but I wasn't complaining. I needed this, and clearly so did he.

We removed our clothes desperately, needing each other. He sat back against my couch, gazing up at me hungrily.

"God, your body is killing me." He grunted, "Give it to me."

I settled back down onto his lap, my sex grazing his leaking cock. Our breaths stifled, hitching at the feeling of our bodies being so close and so bare. I lined up my hips, slowly taking in every inch of his dick.

Breathy moans fell from my lips, his groans almost covering up my sounds. Once he was completely inside of me, we stared into each other's eyes intensely.

He began moving his hips, his eyes never leaving mine. "How's it feel, baby? Riding the dick of someone you hate."

"I love it." I whimpered.

"Of course you do. You take me so well, babygirl." He grinned.

I grimaced, "Ew, don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want to, and you'll enjoy every second of it." He slapped my ass hard, pushing into me harder, "Won't you?"

"Yeah, I will." I laughed, moving up and down on his cock, "Fuck, you are so annoying."

His voice was raspy as he glared at me, "Oh, I am? Well, you ain't any better."

I snickered, "Nice comeback, nerd."

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. He pounded into me faster, "Nice cunt, slut. Take this dick."

"Oh my God, fuck yes Sam!" I whined.

I bounced up and down on his cock, his hips meeting with mine, making him go deeper and deeper each time. Sweat slid down our bodies, the room rising in temperature from our movements.

His lips brushed against my ear, nibbling along my neck. "Baby, baby, do you wanna know something? I forgot to tell you something."

I groaned, displeased. "Do you know how to not fucking talk?"

"But babygirl, I think this is really important. You'll want to hear it." He hummed, his thrusts stopping.

"What? What is it?" I slowed my hips, my pussy quivering around him, needing more.

He let out a breathy laugh, pushing my hair out of my face. "So, I forgot one major detail when I told you about the bio-tech company that made me the way I am."

I rolled my eyes, not interested in this conversation at all, "What did you forget to tell me?"

"Malusvir..." The lights behind Sam's eyes dimmed, his face dropping. "They weren't making superheroes."

My heart skipped a beat, my eyes fluttering, "What do you me-"

His hand wrapped around my throat quickly, squeezing tightly. My breath hitched, and Sam began to pound into me again, his hips picking back up the pace they were at once before.

"You are such a silly, dumb girl. Your friends were just as dumb as you. Maybe even dumber." His almost sinister gaze sent shivers of pleasure down my spine as his grip tightened.

I held onto his shoulders, my heart rate picking up as he made it harder to breathe. "S-Sam, fuck."

"You wanna know how I got your friends to fall in love with me?" He pressed his mouth against my ear, whispering harshly. "I fucked them. Just like I'm fucking you. All three of you were so desperate and needy for this dick. But you? God, you're so much sexier."

I shook my head, "You're fucking joking..."

"No, I'm not. And yet, even as I tell you this, you're still riding me." Sam smirked, growling, "God, aren't you pathetic? Your crush runs real deep. Just like my cock."

"Fuck you." I spat.

"Fuck you right back." He leaned in again, biting my earlobe and neck. "I could literally feel you squeeze around me when I called you pathetic. Don't pretend you don't like this."

I tried ignoring him, but he was right. My body reacted to him saying it again, throbbing around him. "How did you make them-"

"Love me? Pheromones, mostly. Thanks to all of those..." His eyes closed tightly as he got lost in thought. "Injections. Fuuuck. God, you make it hard to think sweetheart."

He had to be lying. He had to be fucking with me. "So they fucked you, and that made them fall in love with you? But Rach said-"

“I fucked them but made it so they can't tell anyone. They remember it, but will never say a word. No one would believe them anyway." He winked, releasing his hand from my neck and sliding it down my body to my clit. "Oh baby, you are in for a world of change once you come. Or once I come inside of you."

"S-Shut up Sam. Shit, fuck yeah..." I let out a breathy moan, my hips stuttering. His cock was hitting the right spot repeatedly, his thumb rubbing my clit gently, making it hard to do anything but whine. "You're just fucking with me."

"Believe what you want to, Y/N. In the end, you're gonna be mine." His lustful blue eyes bore into mine, his voice husky as he continued fucking me. "My girl to use whenever I want to. My girl that gets love drunk on my cock. Aren't you excited for that? Don't you want that? To be my little plaything forever?"

"Yeaahhh," I mewled. My eyes widened, realizing what I said. "Fuck, h-how did you-"

"It's already happening. You can't stop it now. But you don't want to, either. Take this dick more and more, slut." He gripped my hips, slamming me down onto him over and over again. My brain grew quiet, mindless. All I could think of was his leaking cock deep within me and needing him to come inside of me. I needed his come. I needed him.

"Aww, baby. You're in love, aren't you? You love me, don't you?" He mocked, a feign innocent smile on his face.

I tried shaking my head. I was not in love with him. But my body didn't listen to me anymore.

I nodded my head, unable to stop myself. My heart surged, a wave of adoration washing over me as I took in Sam's face. God, he was so handsome, even more so when he was fucking me. I cried out in pleasure, my hips bucking hastily.

He bit his lip, his head falling back against the couch. "Good girl. You're my good girl. Forever."

"Forever." I repeated, my heart soaring.

"Who's are you? Tell me." He ordered, his eyes staring into mine.

"Yours." I whined wantonly.

He sped up his actions, fucking me faster and deeper. "Say it again."

Borderline sobbing, I stuttered out, "I'mmmm youuurss."

"Again!" He yelled, rubbing my clit harder.

"I'm yours, Sam!" I panted, bouncing on his dick as fast as I could.

"That's it, baby. You're so close. Get close for me!" He shouted darkly.

I begged desperately, my body overwhelmed, "Fuck Sam, please! Let me come! I fucking need it! I need you."

"That's right babygirl." He grabbed my neck again, growling, "Fucking come! Come for me!"

I exploded in ecstasy, my brain turning off as I came the hardest I ever had before. My body took over, my hips rutting against Sam's. My nails dug into his arm and shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as I rode him through my orgasm. Suddenly, he came inside of me, his groans thundering off the walls of my apartment. His hips bucked into me with abandon, pounding me once more before dropping back down onto the couch. I felt his cum leak out of my cunt, sliding down my inner thigh. Our bodies collapsed against one another, completely spent.

As I passed out, the last thing I heard was a small whisper that escaped his lips. "Mine."

#sam golbach #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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streets-in-paradise · 1 year

Text

Third Fate - Achilles x Fiancee!Reader

Requested by Anon

" Hey, I found your tumblr and I'm loving what you do here, mostly troy. I don't know if you're getting requests, but if you are, you can make one for Achilles based on that scene where he's told he can go and win glory in battle and have his name spoken for centuries or he can stay and be loved, have children, wife? I would love to see Achilles receive more love, with a wife and children. Feel free to make any changes you want, thank you very much in advance."

Hi, anon! I got this way sooner than what i expected because I was really in the mood to write it. The bittersweet mix of angst and fluff was exactly what I wanted to get into this week. Hope you will enjoy it :)

For a lenght concern i kept it in a pre war, pre marriage discussion of the prophecy. If once you read it you happen to like what i wrote here let me know and I can post a continuation showing what happens next ( i originally planned to do so, but it became too long so i prefer to save that for a second part)

Word Count 3.200

Warnings: Standard Achilles sexyness ( no smut, but if you watched the film you understand what I mean with this.) Some aspects of both, the canon of the film and the source material it is based on, were changed to fit the request in my envision of the story.

Summary: Terrible news disrupt the eve of your engagement to Achilles. He is called to fight in Troy and the spectacular war that the gossip foretells seems to be the destiny of greatness he had always dreamed with, but the price he has to pay for it is his happiness with you. The three days ultimatum Odysseus gave him is his moment to decide, but he won't do it without you.

Note: Inspired by two prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

Prompt 1014 - " Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part."

Prompt 1010 - " Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time."

"I like how that sounds."

Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @helie-brain

There was no easy way for him to explain to you what he had just found out. After Odysseus arrived bringing the news of the war in Asia you were already sad thinking of the distance that would keep your fiancé far away from you for an uncertain amount of time, but the real hardships surpassed your expectations. The whispers of fame claimed the conflict escalated enough to become the greatest war your world had ever seen, but you still imagined it as one war like many others he fought before. No matter the challenges found in battle, Achilles would always return to you.

Except that he wouldn’t,not from Troy. His mother told him of an old prophecy announced before his birth assuring that war would be the peak of his consecration as a hero, but the price for this glorification was his death. From this fact fate allowed him only two options of choice. He could either stay in Greece and be loved during his lifetime knowing history would forget him, or go to Troy to make his name immortal facing his doom.

To the end of his tale all you could do was cry, convinced that you were losing him forever. All your plans faded in just one instant, the life you dreamed together was gone.

“ I’m not dead yet, look at me.” He sweetly mocked you. “ How can you be so sure already that I’m here to tell you I’m abandoning you to get myself killed?”

You could tell he was trying, but that wasn’t making it any better.

“ If you don’t go, you will regret it. “ Was your dry comeback. “I know you, Achilles. You live to fight, staying away from the battlefield feels to you like a punishment. I can never keep you for long, not even when war calls you to fight other greeks. Why would it be different this time? You were born for this war, not to labrate the fields and raise goats. If Troy is the fate of greatness that you deserve, I can’t ask you to abandon this life purpose for the sake of our wedding.”

Despite how much he loved to see people worshiping as a hero, he was very aware to be a man in your eyes. Your approach was realistic and showed how well you knew him, much better than some of the men bleeding with him in war. If you fell for him, you did it knowing what to expect. Begging him to change his nature to fit the requirements of peaceful domesticity was never in your plans and you wouldn’t try it even if you were desperate.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to surprise you on occasions, exactly as he did when he proposed to you freshly arrived from the victory against King Triopas and his giant Boagrius.

“ Do you think I wouldn’t give it all away for you? Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you claim. “ He teased you with insistence. “ I can do well raising horses, I have some magnificent ones already. Do you know that horses are one of the most remarkable exportations of the trojans? If their city gets sacked by greeks and I manage to buy a few of theirs to mix with mine we would get an excellent rare breed. “

You cleaned your face and warned him against the mockery.

“ Don’t play with me! With the memories of your proposal still fresh, fate demands me to let you go. Being your wife is my dream, but I can’t have you knowing I would be destroying everything you worked so hard for. The immortality of your name is a cause bigger than me, the happy marriage we could have had or the children I could have given you. It can’t be a coincidence that this war gets unleashed precisely now, just as we are taking the first step to formalize our union.”

“ They are pressuring me to choose, it’s true, but the load of this decision lies in the fact that I want both more than anything.”

Achilles interrupted himself to take your hand, inviting you to abandon the distance you were forcing ever since he began to explain the situation.

“ I need you by my side, it’s the only vulnerability I have ever allowed myself. A glorifying death doesn’t scare me, but surviving far enough without you would be torture.”

Your lips parted in sincere amazement for that confession, so unusual of him.

“ A slow agony. If the war doesn’t kill me first, lovesickness will.” He continued. “ The comfort of lonely men fighting in foreign lands is dreaming with their distant wives at night, the hope of returning to them makes life bearable. I would not have this, from the moment I would board my ship I will be aware you are lost to me. All I would have is the wound of my pierced heart still bleeding love for you and plenty of time to wonder how wonderful it would have been to make you mine… Sooner or later I would lose my mind. Knowing glorious death would be the only comfort already promised to me, I would roam the battlefield searching for it. It’s most likely I would perform incredible acts worthy of being remembered, but I would do it as the insane man who is desperately looking for the warrior meant to kill him. The poets would write for centuries about the madness of Achilles.”

“ Aren’t they singing that already? Many people have described you as a madman.” You teased him, unsure of how to comfort him. “ Not that I mind, but that is a fact.”

“ They have no idea, unfulfilled passion would consume me in such an incredible way that Paris would feel a reasonable man hearing about me.”

He dragged you even closer so he could hold you in his arms and you fell for his touch chuckling sweetly.

“ Would you be competing against both princes at once while fighting the trojans?”

“ The warrior prince and the lover boy wish they could compare to me, I win in each one of their expertise areas. “ He followed your provocation, then whispered at you. “ I fight as fiercely as I love. “

You bit your bottom lip to avoid an audible response, but your flustered face was speaking for you. For an instant you felt as if nothing had changed between you and you have never heard the terrible omens.

“... Maybe that’s why no woman is meant to have you, the great goddesses would be jealous. “ You theorized out loud while caressing his cheek. “ It’s too much, like Icharus flying too close to the sun… Although I would be lying if I deny I would gladly burn and fall for you.”

Achilles stopped the flow of words taking your breath away with kisses that numb your senses, but not your mind. He had the habit of expressing important things in short, ambiguous phrases or not saying anything at all. When the hungry kissing began to escalate and you felt his hands roaming the sides of your body you understood that was his answer. If he would be saying goodbye, he would at least try to keep himself distant to make it easier for both of you. Given that his involvement on the war would ruin your chances to formalize, he would be encouraging you to find someone else.

He was pulling up your skirt slowly, evidently searching for the heat underneath. The opposite of what you would need from him if he would be about to leave you, so you stopped him right away because you realized what that meant.

" This isn't the time to act impulsively. I know you love me as strongly as i love you, but you have to choose what truly matters the most to you. If you decide to stay, others will be making history and maybe the pleasures of the thalamus will not be enough to cure the resentment for what you will be missing. Think carefully, hearts can change and the future wife you adore now can one day become the load that brought you down. "

Although a sensical objection, that didn't seem to preoccupy him much.

" Never, you were made for me. The omens were very clear, staying grants me a blissful life with you for the price of letting my name fade. I have only two options: be loved and forgotten or waste my life following the fool's orders until death will reward me with immortal glory. Between spending the rest of my life with you or with Agamemnon, I think it's clear where I would rather be. "

The sacrifice was too great, ultimate proof of his love for you. Behind that relaxed phrasing Achilles attempted to de-dramatize giving up his biggest personal dream for the one you shared, what you still considered wasn’t fair.

Responding with an equal offer was not only what your heart began to crave, but an alternative solution neither of you had considered.

“ There has to be another way, your mother never said what I must do in all of this.”

He wasn’t sure of where you wanted to point, but began to suspect it.

“ Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part.”

The mischievous happiness renewed in your eyes let him know you had just found hope in the most insane of places.

“ Don’t give me that look, this is what happens for leaving you a while alone with Odysseus! Now you think you can outsmart destiny and find me a third end.”

You smirked with pride before presenting your idea.

“ I can’t interfere with yours, only my own. If no part is clearly stated for me in this sacred command sent to you, then nothing stops me from choosing one. Instead of having you abandon your dream to stay with me, I’ll follow it with you.”

His eyes were wide open staring at you, disbelief making him feel you were then playing with him.

“ Are you telling me we could just get married and board the ship to Troy the morning after our wedding night? What kind of honorable nuptials would that be? When all the wives of the country would be giving their farewell to their husbands, would you follow me like slaves are meant to? War holds no virtuous position for a woman to occupy, it would be a stain to your reputation your parents would curse me for. “

“ If your baby cousin can go, so can I.” You justified yourself.” To stop me you will have to stop Patroclus and we know that is not going to happen.”

The exactitude of your threat made him feel frustrated. Not because he wouldn’t love having you with him, but since he was refusing to publicly humiliate you like that. All Greece would know you were going to be the only wife following her husband to Troy for unexplainable reasons and they could judge your morals. Decent wives were meant to wait for their husbands and take care of their homes, not let passion distract them from their social duties. War camps were masculine places meant to be despised by the women, since their only female presence was typically in a state of degradation. Besides, Helen had already caused a moral breach shaming the greek concept of marriage and that was the reason pushing the fight. People would be judgemental of your relationship, they would question you for immorality and him for lacking authority to make you stay like a normal wife should.

He wasn’t thinking about him anymore, of protecting his name and the weight of his masculine prestige. He was extremely worried about you and the consequences it could bring when he wouldn’t be there to protect you.

“ Do you sincerely want to go to Troy and watch me die?”

“ It’s still better than watching you sail knowing you will never come back.” You terminated in response . “ I have heard the city is built to withstand a ten year siege, enough time for us to have a life together before destiny will reclaim you.”

Arguing with you was hard, even if the idea was insane you would find ways to make it sound logical.

“ A camp on the trojan beach is no place to start a family. “ He replicated softly, just letting you know he was trying to make you understand you couldn’t ask that. “ What are we going to do when the children come? Because they will, eventually. If you become my wife no omen of death is going to stop me from making love to you.”

You smirked innocently, ready to deliver a justification.

“ I'm not naive, Achilles! Do you think I don’t know what happens in those camps? Captives get pregnant all the time, so it's not impossible to go through it there. It may not be ideal, but I can make it. If you would leave me here and break our relationship to protect me from your fate, you could still put a baby inside your finest war trophy girl.”

“ And who said I’m leaving?” He questioned you. “ I’m not doing it and I am not breaking up with you. Now stop with this nonsense, my wife can’t be giving birth surrounded by death.”

“ But trojan women can? Because births aren’t going to stop there. “ You insisted, sitting near and acting as if you were two civil parts on a trial. “ Hector has a baby boy, if he can be a father in this mess so can you.”

The provocation made him hold a groan, but he turned back and kicked the nearest surface as a frustration release outlet.

“ It’s different for him, his wife is a princess and they have a city to defend. “ He tried to articulate in fast speaking, doing all he could to not show signs of anger growing because of your stubbornness. “ I don’t want you to have the life of a war captive, to denigrate yourself for me.”

It was very sweet, you were feeling his pain but he had to understand yours too.

“ As long as you are still breathing I will not accept a life without you. When the time comes I will embrace grief, but I’ll cry for you as your widow. In the meantime I don't want no one else, I’ll have the ground of your tent as thalamus and I’ll have your children.”

He gave a few steps towards you, presenting one more solid concern.

“ What will be of all of you when I'm gone?”

That should have been a strong preoccupation making you desist, but it didn’t.

“ We will be alright. They will inherit your share of the sacking, we know your death is linked to the fall of Troy so I can assume we will win something. Given that the House of Aeacus would possess fresh new heirs to renew the bloodline, I may even be able to bargain with Agamemnon the throne of Phthia for one of them. He hates you, but he would not be politically capable to refuse if you become the maximum fallen hero of the war he just won.”

At that point he felt true powerlessness because he just couldn’t convince you out of it for your own good.

“ They can’t grow in a warzone, think of the ruthless people they will become. Those kids would not know any better until it would be too late for them. I don’t want a soulless soldier as heir, people saying Achilles’ son has surpassed the brutality of the father.”

“ Let our little monsters run free through the camp, they will turn out fine if we guide them right. “ You imagined out loud, not scared at all by the dark warning. “ I can’t wait to see them messing around, you will be in tears the first time one of them will grab a wooden sword trying to copy their father.”

Illusion was starting to make his negative stance harder to maintain, he loved what you were saying. It sounded so wonderful that he couldn’t help find some sensical feeling in it. There was only one detail you haven’t solved for his resistance to fall completely.

“ How would I fight the enemy worried for you? You will be the only married woman around thousands of men and although I'm terrifying to most of them, I can’t keep control at all times. Some of those men will not be myrmidons, they will not know who you are.”

“ That’s the best part: I’ll keep Patroclus bussy.” You announced with excitement, knowing well he wouldn’t resist it. “ I know you don’t trust him in an open battleground yet, but he would not accept being left behind so you have to take him or he would never forgive you. With me on board you have a safe mission to give him that would keep him away from combat but still make him feel a hero. By the time you will judge him ready to charge into battle my presence will be naturalized and his vigilant eye won’t be needed anymore.”

Hope was truly hitting him because he started to feel as if the crazy plan could work if you all would make it work out. Most of the persons he loved the most could be with him for the rest of his lifetime, making the surviving gap before the consecration worth living. His little cousin, his best friend and his wife along with his future children all gathered like some warrior family.

A taste of happiness before the end, walk the two roads simultaneously into a third fate.

“ Blessed be your stubbornness, you wonderful woman! “ He praised you, surprise making his attitude switch as he rushed towards you. “ How can you be in every detail? You are insane, but I love you. I don’t deserve you, I can’t believe this.”

He made you smile and by that point you knew you were about to win.

“What exactly? My incredible ingeniousness, my gorgeous looks?”

“ That you love me so much, '' He admitted, then picked you up bridal style. “ That you will be my wife and I will brag about having you to both greeks and trojans. I will not rest until you will be the most honored person in that camp alongside me, your sacrifice will be part of my legend and maybe that will be my start to repay you. “

His immense gratitude was making you chuckle due to the unusual intensity, but he wouldn’t stop.

“ I’ll love you to my last breath, I promise you that.”

You were all smiles while caressing the strands of hair falling at the sides of his face.

“That’s all I want. No other payment you can offer matters to me because my will for sacrifice comes from love, just like yours.” You purred blissfully. “ Let’s not worry about the future, let’s just take this one kiss at a time.”

Mesmerized as he was, he replied against your lips.

“ I like how that sounds.”

#troy 2004 #achilles #brad pitt #achilles x reader #brad pitt x reader #troy #troy (2004)

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