#Wait wait no I've been to the Roman baths in Bath

[darknessisafriend]

Hello love! Hope ur doing well. Let me start by saying that I adore ur fanfics! I've been a fan for years now, and seeing commodus trending again is so funny, but I'm here SO here for it!

Anyway, back to my original request: i wanted to ask u if u could do nr 4 on the smut promt list 2! If u could make the reader like an old friend or something, who's just visiting? I hope u get the gist. 😢

Nothing non con, just extremely smutty 😋

Thank u so much!!!

Hello dear! thank you so much for your words, goes straight to my heart <3 I'm so happy to see Commodus trending as well, he deserves it and if the first movie had come it in 2024, he would have an even bigger fanbase ahaha! anyway here's your request, I hope you will enjoy it, there is even a bit of humor in there ;)

Little reminder, request n°4 is :messy drunk sex that is then forgotten the morning after (old friend visiting or someone close to him, full consensual)

The morning after

“Brother, I haven’t seen you that eager since your ascent to the throne.” Gently teased Lucilla with a smile, putting her hand on his shoulder to make him stop pacing around. The young emperor was holding a letter between his hands.

“Lucilla, I haven’t heard from Y/N since that summer in Lanuvium 4 years ago! She is saying in her letter that she traveled and developed a business with her father in the north but now she is on her way back to Latium, to Rome!” he exclaimed joyfully, unconsciously pressing the letter to his chest, closer to his heart, his mind wandering to the moment where he would meet you again.

“When is she going to arrive?” asked Lucilla, smiling, it would distract her brother, he needed to relax and if you could bring him some moments of peace, then so be it.

“I don’t know. She could arrive before sunset, or next week…damnit.” He cursed, now getting anxious. He wanted to welcome you the best way he could, some way to impress you.

Commodus became then insufferable for days, every day on the edge, wanting things to be ready in case of your visit, hoping his welcome would please you, hoping he would still please you. You hadn’t seen each other since he had ascended to the throne, he had changed, grown…what if you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore? What if you were by displeased him now just like he had displeased the others? He lost sleep once again, spending hours looking at the horizon, or standing alert every time he heard a messenger walk through the corridors, expecting the news of your imminent arrival.

It was only days later, during a hot day, when the air was thick and unbreathable as Rome was every summer that the news came. Commodus was sitting at his desk, but he was having a hard time getting any work done, the tiredness added to the heat dampening his clothes despite the many cool baths he took; the fan waved by the slave was like a fan waving heat from a pit. No water could quench enough his thirst.

“Your highness. Someone presented herself at the entrance of the palace. She shows no invitation, but she claims to be Y/N. That you are expecting her.” The messenger spoke, giving a letter to Lucilla who read it first, smiling, before handing it to her brother.

“She is finally here. Allow her in.” Lucilla commented to the messenger. Then, she looked at her brother, his excitement growing yet he remained on his seat, quill in hand “The Empire can wait a day or two. You and I both know there is nothing urgent that needs tending.” She reassured him, gently taking away his quill.

“You are right Lucilla.” He beamed and stood up in haste “Make sure preparations are made for tonight’s party.” He requested as he left through the many corridors and halls of the place, servants struggling to keep up with his fast pace, trotting behind him.

Finally, you came into his view, escorted by your own servants. You were dressed the roman way but wore a few exotic jewels from the various areas you traveled to. Commodus marveled at the sight, he had much to ask you and much to tell as well.

“Y/N! my dearest friend!” he beamed loudly, rushing to you with open arms. Not caring of social norms once again and embracing you tightly, not allowing you to bow to him.

“Commodus! How good it is to see you!” you exclaimed, returning the hug, smiling. How much you had missed him, how much he had changed! “My apologies for not giving you a proper time of arrival…” you apologized, knowing he surely had a busy schedule.

“No need. Traveling is something hard to quantify precisely. I have been waiting for you for days and now that you are here…it was more than worth it.” He smiled, taking your hand and kissing it. “Come with me, we have much to talk about and tonight we shall celebrate our reunion!” he announced, all joyfully, leading you to your quarters and when you were ready, to the gardens.

The both of you sat for hours in the gardens where the plants and fountains brought a bit of freshness, just like seeing each other again. You told him about your travels, your business, everything you hadn’t told Commodus about. As for your friend, he confined about his ascending to the throne, his many difficulties and his hopes; how good it felt to talk so openly without judgement.

“Is cutting your hair a requirement to become emperor?” You gently teased him, your fingers trying to find a few long curls, you loved those.

Commodus blushed, giggling “It isn’t. But I do know that in this damn city, having short hair is a sign of having control over myself. If that can make the senators shut their mouths, I will keep it that way for a little while. Until I give them another reason to fuss about my reign.” He grinned. Here he was, that playful man you knew, loving to provoke, stubborn, sly.

“All I can say is that you are doing wonderfully for business. My affairs are flourishing. People are going to live and cultivate lands in the north of the empire. All thanks to the way you secured the main trade routes and borders.” You praised him with the reality you lived, you have the privilege of being able to be fully honest with him, for good and bad.

He cocked an eyebrow pleased “What is good for you is good for me then…” there was a flirty tone in his voice; something you were used to; it had always been a game between the two of you. “I could involve you even more within the affairs of the empire, you could be my hand in the north for resources…for the army and the palace…” he murmured on the tone of confidence, his eyes slowly detailing your face, he always came up with many brilliant ideas.

“If you secure me better protection for the goods I import in Rome…gladly, your highness…” you breathed, your eyes shining with interest.

“Consider it done, my lady.” He briefly bowed his head before standing, it was past sunset already. “Come, let us not make the court wait for too long. They need plenty to gossip about.” He smirked, offering his hand.

Commodus wasn’t lying when he spoke about imperial parties, full of politicians, courtesans, following your every action, detailing your outfit and judging the words that you use, gossiping behind your back. “How exhausting that must be.” You commented to your friend as you drank some wine and ate olives.

“I try not to pay attention to it. But it proves harder to do than planned.” He chuckled, saluting from afar senator Falco. “These receptions are boring anyway; we are here to celebrate our reunion. Let’s make it memorable.” He grinned, requesting for his cup and yours to be filled. “Do not retain tonight! Wine and food will be served until you can’t stand no more!” he announced, lifting his cup in the air, sign for the musicians to start playing something more inviting to partying. People cheered, instantly relaxing and letting go of social norms, thanks to their emperor’s will. Commodus leaned closer to your ear “See? They were just waiting for my signal to get lost into vice.” He whispered amused, clinking his cup to yours.

The night was filled with laughter and cheers, between the alcohol never ceasing to fill your veins, the exotic dancers making you blush, the divine food that you missed dearly, and the company of your best friend. It was perfect. He enjoyed himself as much as you did; you could tell he hadn’t relaxed in a while and tonight, in your company, he felt like he could finally let go. It was like a breath of fresh air, the wine was intoxicating, allowing Commodus to be himself, singing songs he enjoyed, pranking senators as well.

“My dear, you are sent by the gods. My light to guide my path to Elysium!” recited Commodus as he joined you on a balcony to enjoy the fresh temperatures of the night.

“Please don’t die already, life would be incredibly boring.” You laughed, taking his hand and kissing it affectionately. Commodus approached, making you lean against the edge of the balcony, his hands resting on each side of the stone, trapping you between his arms.

“If you didn’t die with me, death would be incredibly boring.” He re-used your words, giggling “We are invincible, no one can take us down. We are blessed by the gods!” he cheered loudly, spilling his wine on the ground, laughing before leaning closer to you, his forehead resting against yours. Now his warmth against your body was all you could feel.

“How come you are without a husband?” he suddenly asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“I didn’t find one worthy of it. How come you are without a wife?” you retorted, amused. You were telling the truth; you felt much better by yourself.

“I could be your wife.” he answered seriously, making you burst out laughing.

“My wife? I didn’t know you hid the body of a woman under that tunic?” you pulled on his tunic as if to lift it, making him laugh at his turn.

“I-I am not a woman. I am very much a man…I could even show you…” he flirted, he was so close, his nose brushing against yours. He licked his lips, angling his head to kiss you.

“Ah…Commodus...” you giggled, cupping his face and giving him a quick kiss, affectionate, then a few more, then letting the emperor do the same in return, the both of you lightly laughing between kisses.

“We should go elsewhere…” he suggested against your lips, his hand coming to rest on your hips.

“I agree…” you breathed, parting from him and taking his hand. The both of you passed through the crowd, most people were too drunk to notice your closeness or anyway would excuse it to a drunk state.

Commodus led you to his quarters, to his private baths, capturing your lips once again as the doors closed behind you. This time the kisses were slow, yet hungry, sloppy, intoxicating. You pressed Commodus against the wall he undressed you, his hands exploring your body, groping your butt.

“How nice to have baths constantly ready for you…�� you breathed, caressing his muscly chest, the heat of the night making his skin damp.

“I love taking baths to be honest.” He giggled “Hey come back…” he protested with a pout as you parted from him, going towards the baths, mesmerized as he watched you take off your undergarments.

“Last one in the bath is a filthy barbarian!” you challenged with a grin, almost loosing your balance as you walked on the wet mosaics and jumping in the bath before Commodus, exhaling at the cool temperature of the water.

“You cheated!” he exclaimed, jumping behind you, water splashing all around as he landed in the water.

“Commodus?” you called after a few seconds, rubbing your wet eyes and looking around, where was he? Until you cried out, when someone grabbed your legs, making you choke on water, Commodus’ head emerging from the water “You idiot!” you exclaimed, splashing his face.

“I was actually drowning! it’s a bit…spinning all around me...until I found your legs.” He laughed, totally reckless. In fact, the both of you were.

“Now...back to business…” you breathed grabbing his face and pulling him for rough kiss; this time he was the one pressing you against the walls of the baths, holding himself somewhat steady. Your breast brushed against his chest as he did a motion of up and downs with his hips, rubbing his hard manhood between the lips of your slit. You parted your legs, moaning as he gave you pleasure; your hand went to bury in his dark hair, massaging his scalp slightly while your mouth went to his neck, kissing it sensually, nibbling his skin, even sucking it, finding yourself wanting to mark him.

His hands traveled from your waist to your thighs, grabbing them and lifting them to have a better hold, the both of you were panting, your breaths mixing together in this intoxicating scent of expensive wine. Commodus kept rubbing against you, his moans and water splashing repeatedly resonating in the room as his pleasure increased. He tried a few times penetrating you, but his balance was terrible and yours too, barely holding onto him. Still, you came a first time from that mutual masturbation, Commodus almost drowning in the water as his legs gave in “Stay with me…we should…go to bed…” you giggled, out of breath, supporting him to get out of the water then he pulled you out as well.

“I agree…it’s spinning too much here.” He replied, catching you as you slipped on the wet floor once again, the both of you holding hands and laughing or groaning as you kept slipping on the ground.

You walked through the corridors of the place, naked, thankfully there wasn’t much distance from his bedroom, so the only unfortunate witnesses to that scene were just a few servants. You hurried to the bedroom, collapsing on the huge bed with the emperor “How comfy…” you purred, rolling on the softest sheets you had ever laid on.

Commodus caught your waist with a chuckle, water dropping from his wet hair onto your chest as he came on top of you “It is yours now, I shall have one made for you!” he cheered, settling between your legs again but you playfully made him lose balance, and came to sit astride him.

“I will take care of you, highness.” You grinned, lifting yourself up a bit as you grabbed his dick, guiding it inside you. You bit your lower in pleasure, giggling as Commodus moaned, rejecting his head back, his hands gripped you hips when you lowered yourself onto him, your hands resting on his pectorals to support your weak balance as you started rolling your hips.

“Oh yes…feels so good!” he grunted, his eyes half closed as he watched your tits bounce. The bed was creaking a bit, your ride was not gentle, it was messy, raw, the only objective was to reach climax before one of you passed out or threw up. “Faster…faster please…I’m almost…!” whimpered your partner; drunk sex was the shortest in terms of stamina, especially that the two of you had been aroused for a while already.

After a short while, you rolled over, a little bit too quick, feeling Commodus’ seed drip between your thighs, you groaned at the sticky sensation, but the room was spinning too much around you to care to clean up. Your lover of the night crawled to your side, hugging you tight as he rests his face on your breast, both of you breathless, your eyes becoming heavy. Yet it was hard to sleep with such dizziness.

“Commodus? Are you asleep yet?” you asked after a while, turning over to face him.

“Hmmmm no…what…?” he asked sleepily, he fact he was struggling not to fall asleep. You caressed his cheek, then took his hand, guiding it to your butt.

“We should totally try from behind.” You whispered, which had the instant effect of waking him up. The more time passed the more the two of you were getting messier, clumsier and uncontrollable.

The morning after…

“ACHOO!” you sneezed loudly, the action waking you up. But the moment you opened your eyes, the light gave you a bloody headache. You groaned, putting a hand over your eyes to shield them and shivering a bit, did it rain last night? You wondered about the humidity of your hair and sheets.

Then, you felt it, an arm tightening around your waist, pulling your naked body closer to a muscular chest. You froze, did you have sex last night!? With whom…oh you praised the gods it wasn’t some old senator. So, you turned around to face your bed companion, blinking a few times to get adjusted to the light.

“Commodus?” you exclaimed in surprise, lifting the sheets, the both of you were indeed naked!

“It’s cold damnit…!” he exclaimed, opening his eyes with difficulty and landing onto your flustered face and…naked body, why were you naked?  “Oh…how did we…?” he asked, the sheets were wet, he noticed your knees were bruised, making you wince as he passed his fingers over it, then noticed dried white flakes on your inner thighs. He turned red, looking around, there were no men here except himself, he had done this to you!

“I guess…we drank more than we thought…argh my butt hurts.” You muttered, not really daring to look him in the eyes either, wondering what had led to this, no, why the room was such in a terrible state and why you didn’t remember a thing.

“From what I see it makes sense that it hurts if we... Now why do I have bruised hips and why does my butt hurt too?” he exclaimed confused, until your eyes met his, realization hitting you both. “Oh.” You pinched your lips, trying to contain the laugh that was building in your chest until you couldn’t retain it anymore, bursting out laughing “Y/N! It is not funny! It’s…” protested Commodus, flustered his cheeks red before softening a little bit at the sound of your laughter, seeing you smile, not angry or disappointed. “I... admit it is perhaps amusing.” He smiled shyly before chuckling, opening his arms to let you snuggle against him. No matter what happened during that night, a one-time thing or perhaps the start of something regular…he didn’t regret any of it and neither did you.

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[orcasoul]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Summery: You and Marcus become closer than ever, where neither of you can ignore the building tension any longer...

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut (masturbation 18+ only, minors DNI) enemies(ish) to lovers, slow burn, protective Marcus Acacius.

Word Count: 6, 306

Chapter 9 Heart's desire

Marcus watched in delight as unrestrained joy and enthusiasm emanated from you as he escorted you around the Roman Forum at Capitoline Hill. The only other times you had been here was upon your arrival in the city and for the banquet, and both times you hadn't really had the chance to truly appreciate it. So today he's taking his time, determined to give you your first real taste of Rome. As you pass by the many richly decorated temples, basillicas and official residences, Marcus points them out, telling you their names and purposes. You hang onto his every word, eyes shining with wonder the whole time.

Many people greet Marcus as they pass by and give you curious backward glances; not that you'd noticed, being completely captivated by your surroundings. He had to stifle his amusement as you'd practically dragged him from one building to the next until the entire Roman Forum had been explored. Next he took you on a walk throught the Via Sacra (main street) and around the entire outside of the Colosseum. "What's that noise? Where's it all coming from?" you asked as shouts and echoes of steel clashing rang out from some nearby buildings. "Those are the gladiator training schools," Marcus pointed to three large buildings across the way from the Colosseum. "How long do they have to train for?" you regard the structures with curiosity.

"Oh, many years," Marcus emphasized the word 'many'. "Every man wants to be the best; to be remembered, and that takes a lifetime of honing skills." Your brows crease in consideration. "A lifetime of training only to risk losing it all the moment they step foot in there," you tilt your head to the Colosseum. "That's the game," Marcus replied, factually. "Well..." you huff, lightheartedly, "I've never been so relieved to not be a man. I wouldn't last two seconds in there." "I'm sure you could teach them a thing or two," Marcus chuckled, looking down at you. A light pink blush spread across your cheeks as you grinned up at him, meeting his eyes and suddenly Marcus felt... nervous? Being this close, he can't help but notice every detail of your face as the sun bathed your complexion in golden warmth; the hardly visible freckles dashed across your nose, the sweeping curve of your top lip and your eyes... gods, he'd never noticed all the tiny flecks of green blending in with the rich brown of your irises until the sunlight illuminated them just right. You're absolutely stunning.

Marcus swallowed past the newly formed lump in his throat, ignoring the urge to tuck a few loose strands behind your ear. Your grin had eased now, replaced with a soft smile you only ever seemed to give him. It made his heart leap behind his ribs. "Um..." Marcus cleared his throat. "We should continue. There's much more to see." "Oh, yes of course," you smiled coyly. A few minutes later Marcus helped you into the carriage waiting for you by the entrance of the Colosseum, giving instructions to the driver before climbing in himself. The carriage rocks and groans it's way through the bustling city, stopping every now and again as Marcus escorts you around marvel after marvel. You've never seen so many temples in your life! Not only does the Forum have an abundance of them but there are many more dotted throughout the expanse of the city.

And the names are so odd; Temple of Portunus, Temple of Hercules Victor and the Pantheon, to name a few. How does everyone manage to keep up with all these dieties? you wonder to yourself. Another thing Rome boasts are stunning arches with the most exquisite craftsmanship you never thought possible. You had briefly seen the arch of Septimius Severus on your arrival but now you have the chance to really admire it along with the arch of Constantine. This place truly is a modern day wonder, it's endless statues, fountains and monuments a testament to the skill and creativity of the men who made all this possible. It leaves one feeling quite insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

The carriage continues for a little while and you find yourself listening intently as Marcus points out more places of interest. Soon the carriage comes to a stop outside a large open plaza. "Where are we?" you asked as Marcus helped you to step down from the carriage. The place is absolutely teaming with activity, even more so than the temples. Many heads turn your way as you both enter the large open square. "One of Rome's finest markets," Marcus says proudly and offers you his arm, which you accept. There are a mix of shops and endless stalls, with so many different goods in huge quantities. It's enough to make your head spin (in a good way, of course). Booming voices fill the vicinity, all vying for attention from potential customers, greatly exaggerating their products - but if it works, you can't blame their tactics.

The closest thing you'd had to a market in Germania were the trade meetings your tribe hosted with neighbouring tribes, and then it was mostly for food, furs and weapons. The lucky few at the top sometimes traded for golden jewellery to reflect their status in the community, but this... this is something else! Billowing fabrics of various colours and materials sway in the warm breeze from where they hang from racks and hooks and the scent of spices, herbs and baked goods travel straight to your stomach, dragging a low rumble from it. Choosing to ignore it you eagerly press on through the throng of shoppers, also passing stalls that offer beautiful works of pottery and ornaments and some of the most dazzling pieces of jewellery you've ever laid eyes on.

Without noticing you'd began walking slightly ahead of Marcus, pulling him from stall to stall with your linked arms. Watching your face light up with each new experience is worth the dull ache in his thigh as he picks up the pace to keep in step with you. "Look at these colours!" you cry as you admire the stolla's and paller's on display. "And them..." you let go of Marcus, practically bouncing to the next stall selling sandals and various accessories. Marcus can't hold back his endearing chuckle as you become more and more excitable by the second. This right here, seeing you happy and free is a sight he'll commit to memory forever. Just being able to give you this carefree moment brings Marcus so much joy he thinks he might burst.

Lately, nothing makes him happier than to see you happy; if you're content, so is he, if you're at ease so is he and if you're troubled, he can almost feel it, like a physical weight crushing his chest and clouding his mind. How and when you came to have such an effect on him has him bewildered. And what does this even mean? Why is it when he's next to you he feels whole but when you're apart - even when you're only a room away - he feels what he can only describe as a void in his soul; like something is missing. No, not something... It's you. You've shone such a light in his life in the short time he's known you and now he can't fathom losing that light, losing you. Just the thought of not having you in his life every day leaves his stomach in knots.

Marcus blinks back into the moment, pushing the mystery of you and everything about you to the back of his mind. You're now eyeing up a display of jewellery at the next stall, tracing your fingers lightly over the glittering items as if you're afraid you're not worthy to touch such luxury. Marcus sidles up to you, handing you a few denarius. "Why don't you buy us something from the baker," he nods to a stall on the opposite side of the street. "Really?" you grin widely at the prospect of making your first ever purchase. "Anything in particular you'd like?" "Surprise me...." Marcus beams back at you, "I trust your judgement." Your smile widens even more at his declaration of confidence in you. "Okay, I'll be right back." Turning swiftly, you practically skip over the the stall. Marcus watches your retreat for a few moments, until he's certain you won't turn around.

Once satisfied that you're adequately distracted he turns back to the jewellery stall, scanning the many necklaces, brooches and bracelets. His eyes snag on an elegant golden necklace with a green opal stone cut in the shape of a peardrop, the green matching the colour of your eyes. It's perfect. After a short bartering session with the merchant, marcus hides hides his purchase in his pocket, turning around just in time to see you approach, thankfully too focused on the sweet bun in your hand to have noticed his covert operations. "You've got to try this!" You enthusiastically shove the other bun into his hand. Marcus chuckles, "That good, eh?" "Mhm..." Your eyes widen as you nod around another mouthful. "In the past couple of weeks I've eaten more flavoursome food than I've had since I was a child. This is delicious."

That statement, while leaving your lips so casually, is like another splinter in Marcus' heart. As if murder and forced servitude wasn't bad enough for you to endure, the bastards even left you to manage on meagre scraps for years. Marcus forces his features to remain neutral but his jaw ticks as he buries his anger, not wanting to ruin the mood and bring you down. But all he desires right now is to make those bastards pay; to inflict on them even a fraction of what you've had to endure. The only positive he can take from this is that you'll never have to suffer or struggle again in life, not when you have him. You both continue perusing the market at a leisurely pace, enjoying your sweet treats. This is kind of a new experience for Marcus too. Usually he'd send his servants to the markets, but he wanted to be the one to bring you here today, and despite the slowly building throb in his leg, he's not ready for this to end yet.

A sudden little yelp stops the both of you as a small child falls to the ground a few feet in front of you. As if on instinct you rush to the litte boy and crouch down. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" you ask, helping the boy to standand brushing the dust off his clothes. His bottom lip is quivering and his cheeks are flushed. Poor thing looks about ready to burst into tears. Looking him over, you notice he has scraped his knees and elbow. "Oh dear..." you cluck your tongue, "Those look nasty. You'll need to get them cleaned up. Are you here alone?" The child sniffles and shakes his head, his brunette curls bouncing in front of his eyes. Before he can speak, two children run over to him. "Felix...!" a girl, maybe a year or two older than him calls with worry in her voice, followed by a boy slightly older than her. "Why did you wander off? Mother will be furious when she finds out."

A shadow falls over all of you, causing you and the children to look behind you, the eldest boys' eyes widening and mouth agape. "General Acacius!" he exclaims, his surprise morphing into a smile. "Good day, young man," Marcus smiles warmly at the children. "Is your friend alright?" "H-he's my brother, Sir. He ran off when we weren't looking," the boy says, looking abashed. Marcus looks to the injured boy, "You must pay your brother and sister more mind, son. They only want the best for you." "Yes, Sir," the small boy whispers, still teary eyed. Marcus decides to soften his approach. "You know..." he whispers, kneeling down and pointing to the boys' knees, "if you're lucky you might get a couple of scars. Wouldn't that be a good story for your friends?" The boy smiled at that, wiping his nose and nodding.

Watching this whole exchange leaves you pleasantly surprised. You wouldn't have thought Marcus to be so at ease around children, so caring and paternal. It brings a smile to your face as your chest blooms with warmth. Just when you'd assumed you'd had Marcus all figured out, he continues to surprise you. The little girl had been looking between you and Marcus while he spoke to the boys, a look of excitement and recognition suddenly lighting up her face. "Are you the Generals' friend? The girl who saved his life?" "I am," you smiled warmly, "My name is Alia." All three children perk up at your confirmation. "They say you're a heroine, a warrior! They said you fought through dozens of men to save General Acacius!" the girl gushed. A soft, breathy laugh escaped you, "I wish I were that impressive. Don't believe everything you hear, little one." You look to Marcus, a subtle hint of appreciation in your eyes. "We saved each other."

Did you just imagine it or did Marcus' cheeks turn a shade pinker than usual? Marcus tears his gaze from you to the girl. "Yes, we did. But they're right when they called her a heroine. I owe her my life." Now it's your turn to blush. "Are you going to marry the General?" the eldest boy asked out of nowhere, causing your heart to flip and mind to go blank. You're not just blushing now, your cheeks are on fire. "Oh yes!" the girl clapped her hands, looking at Marcus with a dreamy expression. "Marrying your rescuer... It would be so romantic, like a fairy tale!" Marcus looks as if he wants the ground to open up and swallow him right this second and you're certain you look no different.

You cast at glance at Marcus, heat now spreading to your ears. For a man of authority and confidence he now looks stumped. It's obvious he's trying to find the right words. You speak up quickly, hoping to put an end to this embarrassment. "Oh I'm sure the General has far more important matters to tend to, he is Rome's protector after all." You ruffle the girls' hair and smile sweetly at the other two. An adorable, disappointed pout settles on the girls' face. It's only now you notice that your friendly chit chat with these not so discreet children has drawn the attention of those closeby, a few people approaching to greet Marcus and yourself. The crowd steadily grows as more people stop to see what the commotion is about. At first you'd assumed they were just excited to see their famous war hero out and about but they seem just as interested in you also.

Thank goodness Marcus is used to addressing large groups of people; it's all quite intimidating if you're honest. After several minutes of being under the gaze of so many people at such close proximity, along with having to answer endless questions, you're beginning to feel a bit suffocated. For appearances sake you try to hide your discomfort but you can't be doing a very good job, because as soon as Marcus looked your way, you could see concern on his face plain as day. "Thank you all for your kind words and show of support. It's been a pleasure speaking to you all, but we must be on our way now," Marcus says, placing his hand at the small of your back to gently guide you forward.

You give the children - who are now dwarfed by the crowd - a little wave. "It was lovely to meet you all," you cooed at them, "Make sure you get home safe." "We will," the eldest boy beamed, "Goodbye." The children waved as you and Marcus left the throng behind. Once away from the unexpected gathering, Marcus turns to you, clearing his throat. "Are you alright? I'm sorry if those children embarrassed you." Great, he's really bringing this up. You reply in what you hope is the most nonchalant tone you can muster, "Oh no, it's fine," you wave your hand dismissively. "Children tend to say whatever comes to mind. It's quite endearing, actually." Yeah," Marcus laughs through his nose, relieved to release the awkward tension the kids had unintentionally caused.

"You were very good with them," Marcus remarked. You shrug, smiling in one corner of your mouth. "I've always had a soft spot for children." "Really?" Marcus had the sudden image of you surrounded by children of your own, laughing and playing with them, showering them with love and affection. He doesn't know how he knows it but he knows without a doubt you'd make a wonderful mother. You nod and smile wistfully, then dropping your voice to hushed tones, you ask, "Is it wrong to say I envy children in a way?" Marcus stopped walking and you stopped beside him. "What do you mean?" he asked, brows drawn together. "I envy the freedom that comes with childhood," you say, a slight sadness in your voice. "They're free of worries, free of expectations, free to just be children. It's a gift that so many take as a given and once it's gone there's no reclaiming it."

Of course, it makes perfect sense to Marcus. You'd had your own childhood ripped away from you in the most traumatic way and at such a young age too. And in this moment, in your glassy eyes he sees the remnants of that vulnerable child who never managed to process what had happened that day. He sees a child that had no choice but to live an adult life she couldn't comprehend at the time. Inside his chest Marcus' heart cracks, sorrow and outrage pouring out of the crevices along with an overwhelming surge of protectiveness towards you.

The intensity of his emotions threaten to overwhelm him to the point where he's almost trembling. "Is something wrong?" you say, cautiously, eyes searching his. Marcus swallows his indignation, softening his expression for your sake. "No..." he reassures, "I just understand what you mean." He squeezes your hand in comfort and the sweet smile you give him almost makes his knees buckle. You and Marcus continue through the market, a newfound sense of understanding following you both.

The evening sunlight trickles through the windows of the triclinium, painting the room in a soft golden hue as you and Marcus enjoy a dinner of roast pheasant, boiled vegetables and white bread, discussing the events of the day, the buzz of excitement still thrumming in your veins. Marcus, delighting in your joy listened to you gush about all the things you'd experienced today. "So what would you say your favourite part of the day was?" he asked, taking a sip of his wine. "Hmm... the Roman Forum, no contest. I've never seen so many temples in one place. It's quite the sight. Your gods must be greatly revered to have such dedication and respect," you said, taking a drink of your own wine.

"I'd like to learn of your gods," Marcus spoke softly. "In fact I'd like to learn all about your culture." "Y- you would...?" Your voice rose slightly in pitch from surprise. The Romans have always conquered and subjugated other cultures, never paying any mind to the ways of the people they'd defeated, so you can't help but feel a little taken aback. "Why?" Marcus shrugged, giving a little smile. "So I can know you better. Our heritage, our cultures make us who and what we are, and I'd like to know everything about who you are." Oh?... Oh... a warm sensation spreads through your chest at Marcus' sincerity. This man, the General of Rome wants to know more about you, beyond mere surface level. It's like he actually sees you.

Emotion gathers as a lump in your throat but you swallow it down and spend the best part of the next hour teaching Marcus of your customs, traditions, legends, the names of your gods, etc. And all the while, Marcus listens intently, asking questions and taking in everything you say. Your plates had been collected during your conversation, Cassia and Flavia bringing more wine whilst you and Marcus remained engaged. You'd been so preoccupied you'd forgotten to thank them, oops. "I must say your culture sounds very rich and deep rooted," Marcus said. "Thank you for sharing that with me." "Thank you for asking," you smiled. "It's nice to talk about it."

Marcus noticed the wistful expression hiding in your eyes whilst speaking so fondly of your heritage. He can't begin to understand how hard it must have been to leave it all behind. "Do you miss Germania?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the table. "Sometimes..." you mumble, eyes fixed on your glass, fiddling with the stem as if admitting that was a bad thing. "I miss the land itself. There's a part of me that will always belong to Germania. I do have some good memories from earlier times there," you smile sadly as you recall the better times before... before then. "But I am truly happy to be here in Rome and for the opportunity to make this my new home," you feel the need to clarify, hoping you don't appear ungrateful for the opportunity to have a new and safe home.

As if Marcus could sense your worry, he gently replied, "I know. It's okay to miss everything you've ever known. This is still a big transition for you and no matter how far away you are from your homeland, you'll always have your memories to visit." "You're right," you whisper in agreement, happy in the knowledge that you can indeed do that; you just hadn't thought of it like that until Marcus said so. "Speaking of your new home..." Marcus sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile now on his face. "I received word just before dinner that all the documentation for your citizenship has been completed and will be ready to be collected tomorrow." "Already?!" you actually shriek with excitment "Yes," Marcus laughed, softly. "And tomorrow I will present it to you at the games and all of Rome will bear witness."

The laugh that burst from you was one of absolute joy and relief, hands flying to your mouth as if to anchor yourself in your swell of emotions. "Marcus!" you lower your hands. "I- I don't know what to say! Thank you isn't enough to express what this means to me." Marcus smiles at you, his eyes soft and full of warmth. "There's no need to thank me, Alia. You deserve this." Before you could really think about it, you were out of your chair and rushing to the other side of the table. Marcus quickly stood, eyes widening in surprise, a quiet 'omph' pushing up his throat as you fling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him in a crushing hug. He tenses under your touch for a few seconds, long enough for your mind to catch up with what you'd just done.

But before you have the chance to pull away and begin your awkward apology, Marcus' arms surround you and you feel his entire body relax against you, his chin lightly resting atop your head. In response your body naturally sinks further into his. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything," you murmer into his chest. God's above, his chest is so broad and warm, the hardened muscle from years of training and fighting eveident agaisnt your cheek. How you wish you could stay here like this forever. You can't remember the last time you felt so safe in someones arms. It's only now you realise how much you've been longing for this feeling; this feeling of security and tenderness. You hold on just a little longer.

"You're very welcome, Alia," Marcus holds you more firmly. The scent of your lavender soap and a scent that is all you almost causes Marcus' head to spin and he can't help but breathe you in, discreetly. "I have something else for you," Marcus hums, softly. You pull back, slightly tilting your head up to meet his gaze, your brows raised in curiosity. Marcus reaches into the pocket of his tunic, pulling out a small silk pouch. "What is it?" you smile, taking the pouch. "Open it..." Marcus insists. You open it and tip the contents out into your hand, a gasp hitching your chest when you see a gleaming gold chain with a green opal stone shaped like a pear drop. You've never had jewellery in your whole life.

"Oh, Marcus..." you gush, taking a closer look. "It's beautiful!" Your head quickly snaps up. "I can't accept it-" "You can and you will," Marcus says authoritatively but not unkindly. "But it's such a generous gift, I couldn't-" "It would please me greatly if you'd accept it," he implored, hope and sincerity flashing across his face. Damn, how can you argue with him when he's looking at you with those big brown, puppy dog eyes? You nod, smiling up at him. "Thank you. It's the best gift I've ever recieved." A satisfied grin broke out across Marcus' face, as if pleasing you meant the world to him. "May I?" Marcus held his hand out for the necklace. Placing it in his hand, your fingers brush his palm, sending a tingle up your arm and you wonder if he felt it too.

Marcus steps behind you, unclasping the necklace as you pull your hair to one side and over your shoulder. He is momentarily mesmerized by the sleek line of your neck and how it curves into your shoulder. He can just imagine how soft and smooth your skin would feel under his lips. Marcus clears his throat, shaking himself of the image and focusing on the task at hand. After securing the clasp, Marcus stands in front of you, carefully freeing a section of hair caught beneath the chain, pushing it back over your shoulder. "I love it," you beam, looking down at the stone, twirling it in your fingers. "It's only something small, but when I saw it the colour reminded me of your eyes," Marcus smiled.

And now those eyes are transfixed on his, your cheeks looking slightly flushed as you both find yourselves standing closer than ever before. No words are spoken; they're not needed, not when your eyes fall to his lips then quickly return to his eyes, conveying with just a look what you want, and by the gods he wants it too. Marcus brings his hand to your cheek, gently cupping your jaw as he brings his face lower to yours. He can hear your breath catch in your chest, your head tipping up ever so slightly. This is actually happening?! At the last moment he close his eyes, his lips barely making contact with yours- Thud! "Excuse me, Dominus," Silas says as he opens the doors. You and Marcus jolt away from each other, regaining a respectful distance, looking anywhere but at one another. Silas' face drops and he clears his throat, awkwardly. "Uh... the medicus has arrived for your appointment, Sir."

God damn it, Silas! You're lucky I don't horsewhip my slaves! Marcus cursed inwardly. "I shall be along in a moment. Thank you, Silas," Marcus says through gritted teeth. "Yes, Sir," Silas bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind him. Marcus turned back to you. "I should... go," he stuttered, hand rubbing the back of his neck. You smile coyly, briefly meeting his eyes before looking away. He would find your bashfulness adorable if he wasn't feeling just as awkward. "Of course. I think I'm going to turn in early tonight," you try to sound casual, "It's been a long day and I'm quite tired. Goodnight, Marcus." You quickly walk past him towards the door but stop when Marcus says, "Sweet dreams." With a look over your shoulder, you smile warmly and reply, "You too," then disappear to your room.

*****

The therapy session with the medicus couldn't end soon enough. How the hell was Marcus supposed to focus on anything else when all that occupied his mind was how you felt in his arms? How your scent intoxicated him and how he came to within a fraction of your lips... all for bloody Silas to walk in at that moment. The sun had already set by the time by the time his session had come to an end. It wasn't too late but since you'd retired to bed early, Marcus didn't think it appropriate to disturb you, even though everything within him burned with the need to go to you and finish what he'd started. Were you thinking about it too? How will things be between you both from now on? Marcus wondered. Although the moment had been interrupted, a line had been crossed tonight; one there is no coming back from. You'd both made it clear what the intention was. So what now?

Are you both supposed to carry on as if nothing had happened or do you discuss it, no matter how awkward it may be? Fuck! Matters just became a whole lot more complicated. What the hell was he thinking? He never should have acted on his feelings for you. The friendship he'd built with you should have sufficed. So why does it not? Why is it when he's around you, that's the only time he truly feels at peace? Why does his day instantly become brighter just from having you in it? Why does his heart soar when you laugh and his chest physically ache when you hurt? Why can he not imaigine his life without you now? And how much longer can he ignore how much he craves you? To feel you, taste you and make you his in every way possible. Marcus' mind whirls with so many questions he feels like he's drowning in the intensity of it all. He needs to clear his head before he loses his senses completely. The air inside the villa is suddenly too close, too suffocating. With a weary sigh, Marcus makes his way outside. A walk in the gardens and some fresh air will hopefully help.

*****

You restlessly shift in bed for the umpteenth time, finding no comfort and no way to relax, not when every time you close your eyes you are back there in the Triclinium, standing almost chest to chest with Marcus, his overwhelming scent of Patchouli invading your senses and his towering frame looming over you. But you didn't feel frightened like you would had it been any other man; no, you felt... safe, as if his body was a shield against the world and you had nothing to fear. You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your cheek, his breath fanning your face and his lips... A frustrated groan makes it's way up your throat, your hands pressed into your eyes as if it could quell the fire burning in your belly.

Marcus almost kissed you! He wanted you, just like you've wanted him for some time now. If only you hadn't been interrupted. The what if's keep bombarding your mind. What if you hadn't been interrupted? Would Marcus have kissed you with respectful restraint or would he have pulled you into his body, melding you to his shape while his lips explored your mouth, jaw and neck with the fervour of a man touch starved. Would you both have confessed feelings that had been repressed until now? And how far would you both have gone? The thought of running your hands over his chest, his hands gripping your hips while your tongues meet in a lust fueled battle sends jolts of arousal to your core, your pussy clenching and throbbing with every lewd image.

The more time goes by the more restless you become. Heavens! What is this man doing to you? You turn onto your side, fluffing up your pillow again in the hopes it will help you find the comfort and relaxation you'd been chasing for the past hour. But it's no use. No matter how much you try to ignore it, you know what your body needs right now. Laying on your back, you slowly lower your hand, pulling your nightgown up to your hips, dipping your fingers inside your underwear. A quiet gasp escapes you as you brush your fingers against your already swollen lips. Your fingertips find your clit, your hips automatically bucking upwards as you begin rubbing in slow circles. Wetness gathers at your entrance as you imagine Marcus' fingers in place of your own, his thick digit gliding your slick over your throbbing bundle of nerves while another teases your pussy.

You see him him hovering over you now, pushing one finger, then another inside, stroking your walls tantalizingly slowly. Your gasps have now become moans, growing louder with every thrust of your - his - fingers. You cover your mouth with your other hand, worried someone might hear you. Bringing your soaked fingers to your clit once again, you rub faster, your legs beginning to shake as the intensity of your impending orgasm builds with every passing second. Your head rolls back into your pillow, chest arching upwards. You imagine the weight of Marcus' broad body pressed to yours, one hand bringing you closer and closer to release, the other roughly kneading your breast and his plush lips trailing the promise of euphoria along your neck.

Blissful pressure spreads in your lower belly, warmth and pure need taking over. As you rub in exactly the right spot your concern about being heard is no longer important. All you see is Marcus, all you feel is the pleasure he's giving you. It's too much! A sudden wave erupts from deep between your legs, rippling it's way under your skin until every inch of your body is alive with ecstasy. "Oh fuck! Marcus...!" you cry as you ride out the high, then sink back into your mattress and catch your breath. It takes a couple of minutes to come back to yourself, the effects of your orgasm fading, but Marcus' face remains as your body and mind finally ease into slumber.

Beneath your balcony, Marcus stands frozen, slack jawed and completely stunned by what he'd just accidentally overheard. He'd come out into the garden to clear his head and get his thoughts under control, but that intention is now long gone as all he can picture is your face twisted up in pleasure as his name spills from your lips. He should feel guilty for intruding on what was obviously meant to be a private moment, but his lust addled brain can't focus right now, not when his cock is standing to attention with more vigour than a soldier at roll call. He needs to get back to his room now, before one of his servants catches sight of him in this shameful predicament.

Leaving the gardens, Marcus rushes through the halls of the villa, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, breathing a sigh of relief as he slams the doors to his bed chamber behind him. Now his only issue is the raging hard on under his tunic. Thus far, he'd managed to control his urges, knowing it would be wrong to think of you in that way, but now, after hearing that... So you've been thinking of it too, of him. How long have you desired him and is this the first time you've touched yourself whilst fantasizing about him? He can still hear your voice ringing in his ears like a sweet melody, 'Marcus!' "Fuck it, just once," Marcus mutters as he throws off his tunic and frees himself from his underwear. "Just this once." Marcus takes himself in hand, slowly pumping up and down his thick shaft, a bead of precum glistening at the head.

His heart beats faster and breaths become heavier as he increases the pace. Marcus closes his eyes, throwing his head back and groaning deeply in pleasure. Your face dances in front of him, your eyes gleaming with salaciousness as you sink to your knees, wrapping your lips around his weeping cock and taking him deep into your throat. Marcus spits into his hand, smearing it over his dick, imagining your warm, wet mouth. His hips jerk forward with every pull and pretty soon he feels a tingling sensation, starting in his balls and spreading up his spine. He pumps faster and harder, his knees beginning to tremble as the sensitivity becomes almost unbearable. He's nearly there. Now he sees you pliant beneath him as he pushes into your heat, your tight walls gripping him and a chorus of his name on your lips.

His balls throb and tighten, intense pressure building higher and higher over the next few minutes, until a strained groan pushes past his throat and he explodes over his hand and onto the marble floor. Marcus lazily calms his shuddering breathes, his meat softening in his hand. God's above! If just imagining you has that effect on him, what would it be like for real? After cleaning the mess on his hand and the floor Marcus crashes down onto his bed, legs weakened and a deep fatigue settling in. A part of him was worried that he might feel guilty for giving into his desires afterwards, but to his relief, he doesn't; knowing you want him just as much as he wants you changes everything. And now, after satisfying the need he'd been stifling for too long, Marcus drifts off into the deepest sleep he's had in years.

Series Masterlist Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8

@bbyanarchist @myownwholewildworldwhole @imherefordeanandbones @picketniffler @h0w-1-wanna-l1v3 @chrissy-forfucksakes-wakeup @meetmeatyourworst @yorksgirl @joeldjarin @echo-ethe @whirlwindrider29 @abbyanarchist @suzyface @missadangel @evyiione @longlivekingminnn @heramj @javiismyhsbnd @kxthxrinx0310 @inept-the-magnificent @liciafonseca @marrowfrog00 @moompie @anoverwhelmingdin

[somewhereincairparavel]

How would Jason Grace spoil you? boyfriend hcs list

author's note: ik i have an angsty jason grace prompt in my asks and i swear im working on it! But this idea just popped up on my mind and I've been thinking about it all night yesterday omgg. Let me know if you guys want a Leo/Percy/Frank version of this, I mostly write for Jason since he's my bbg but I might actually do the others this time since the idea is so cute!

I'll start off by saying, Jason is a selfcare supporter bf.

Okay so yk how the Romans in CJ have such high standards? They literally exhibit royal/regal energy, and are super fans of luxury stuff.

Jason despite being influenced by greeks would always be a roman. Whether he likes it or not, there will always be roman blood in him. So he makes these cute/simple ideas for dates/gifts but his execution is just pure sophistication. He's SO simple yet so fancy, and Ik they're contradictions but I promise I'll explain.

like this boy would make sure to run you a nice warm roman bath after you come back from a dangerous/tiresome quest to ease your muscles. Cute and simple right? Wrong. This man would buy all sorts of expensive bath perfumes, bath bombs, fragranted petals, etc to make it extra special for you.

See so this is what I mean when I say his ideas are cute, but executed in a very fancy way.

He LOVES spoiling you with self care products, like sheet masks, lotion, cleansers, hair masks, etc. like he simply does NOT care about the money, as long as his girl is taking care of herself?? That's all that matters tbh

This is mostly because Jason, as a kid soldier, never had any time for himself, the closest thing he's ever done to "selfcare" is probably take long baths + trim his hair lol

jason was blessed with his mother's ethereal actress beauty okay. So selfcare or no self care would have zero effect on him physically bc bro would still look majestic.

ANYWAYS he feels like his inner child just kinda heals when he sees you prioritising yourself and he admires it sm :((

would be ecstatic if you rope him into self care. He would be sceptical at first but then as you're applying a face mask on him he'd be like "wait this is actually so relaxing what" and you love the way his face muscles soften at that. Like he really deserves a break and some relaxation, you'd often trick him into using your skincare products intentionally bc he deserves self care.

once he felt so soothed with the lemon facemask he was wearing that he fell asleep on your shoulder and was all zzz 🥺

and would make sure to restock all your products if they run out.

he feels that the self-care has more of a mental and emotional effect on him rather than physical

Which is what matters to him

honestly?? He supports you if you want to wear makeup. Like he'd think you look gorgeous either way but if you like wearing lipgloss? So be it. You get any lipgloss you want he's paying. He just LOVES that you love yourself too :( and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

also

Food.

This man loves investing on food. Again, it's bc he never even had the time to properly eat as a legionnaire :(

So he'd love to take you out to places and just munch on tasty food and talk. New Rome has bomb food okay. Bro just never got to eat them.

Lmao he's like everyone's grandma when it comes to food. "Have you eaten? You HAVE to eat!! I'll get you food! Go back to your room!"

would spoonfeed you soup if you're sick bc nuh uh you ain't going without eating hun 😤

hes the worried anxious mother hen bf okay fight me.

Food + selfcare = Jason Grace's love language

[laurashapiro-noreally]

Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

[seven-seas-of-rhye-bread]

Lucius Verus x F!OC (Cassia)- Part 2

They're baccckkkk! Still finishing the outline for the rest of "A Fate Worse Than Death", but still wanted to write something today, so here is another fic with Lucius and our fave thermae attendant, Cassia.

Warning: Smut smut smut-- pinv, oral (male receiving), fingering, angsty longing etc etc. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!

Disclaimer: dont @ me with historical accuracies-- its not that I don't care, it's that my brain only has the capacity for smut when I'm in this kind of feral mood.

A/N: Yes, I know there's not really an ending, but the good stuff is there. My brain just stops after my characters cum, I can't help it, it's a PROBLEM.

Once again, very lightly proof-read, sorry xx

Cassia watched the moon rise over Rome sitting on the steps of the thermae portico, another day come and gone. It had been another busy one as Roman citizens were feeling a sense of renewed hope for the future, eager to discuss the future of the city with one another within the walls of the baths. The city had been buzzing since the rightful emperor Lucius took the throne, stories spreading about the gladiator-turned-emperor.

Cassia had listened to Alba in disbelief, in their small shared room one night, as she relayed the fantastical stories she heard in the marketplace earlier that day. The gladiator champion-- yes, Hanno-- was Lucilla's lost son, rightful heir to the empire. Cassia had laughed at Alba's tale, she couldn't believe such a rumor, her friend must have misheard. But as the days and weeks passed, it was confirmed time and time again by bathers, and by the fact that Hanno had not returned to the thermae. She had slept with a Roman emperor-- no one would believe her if she told, except Alba-- who had blushed bright pink with excitement when Cassia regaled her with the story. 

And now Alba waved as she crossed the courtyard towards their living quarters, her silhouette illuminated against the fading lamp light. Cassia was about to get up and follow Alba when she saw their master, Italus, walking at a furious pace towards her.

He wasn't exactly kind, but he wasn't cruel like other masters in the city, as long as she did her job well, he let her be, so the look on his face was cause for concern. 

"Italus, good evening.." she said standing up to greet him, hoping that a civil start to the conversation would be heeded.

"Who do you know in the palace?" he demanded, his brow furrowed. 

"What do you mean?" Cassia asked-- she had never set foot on Palatine hill, how would she know someone in the palace?

 "I've received a summons for you from the palace! There is a guard here ready to escort you."

Cassia was at a loss, she never rubbed shoulders with elites, especially anyone residing in the palace. But it was then she realized it could only be Hanno-- or Lucius, now, she supposed. She kept quiet though, not wanting to divulge her history with the new emperor. 

"It.. must be a mistake, how would I know someone there?"

She could tell Italus was suspicious, but she knew that he could not reject a request from the palace-- even if it was a mistake.

 As he turned away hastily, he shouted back to her "Go change.. I don't need you embarrassing me in front of whoever has summoned you."  Cassia did change, with help from Alba, into her nicest tunic, in a deep saffron shade. Alba quickly brushed Cassia's hair and pinched her cheeks, bringing the slightest flush to them. She hurried to the main entrance where a guard was waiting next to a carriage. He said not a word but helped her in.

Cassia's stomach and mind turned the whole way there. When Hanno-- Lucius-- left the thermae for the last time, he had kissed her gently and taken a moment to just be in her grasp. She hadn't known at the time that he was only a day or two away from changing the future of the Roman empire.

It seemed so simple, a gladiator and a bathhouse servant, it was certainly nothing new, but she saw everything in a different light now. He was no longer more or less equal to her-- he was an emperor. He surely had everything-- and everyone- at his disposal now, but he still wanted her. Cassia wished her heart didn't swell with hope at this thought-- this was a whole other beast itself. She never wanted to be a concubine, never wanted to be at the beck and call of a man-- but was this now her fate? She was, after all, answering his call. 

The carriage came to a stop at the front of the palace, where she was helped out and led to the complex of grand buildings that made up the imperial palace. The servant who met her at an imposing archway led her through halls and rooms of unspeakable magnificence. Cassia had to remind herself, she was not here to admire the frescoes and mosaic floors. They arrived outside a set of doors, the servant opening one and motioned for her to enter.

Cassia could feel her heart pounding as she stepped across the threshold into a room, lit with countless lamps that reflected against the gold leaf that seemed to adorn every corner, but she didn't take note of any further details, as her eyes trained on him, standing by the entrance to a courtyard. 

She stood still near the door, not sure what she should do in the presence of an emperor. A radiant smile flashed across his face, as if she had materialized from the heavens. 

"You're here" he declared with satisfaction and what Cassia noted was a hint of relief. 

" I don't think I had a choice." she said quietly, still standing in the same spot.

His face fell with confusion, "why do you say that?"

"Refusing a summons from the palace isn't something one does." she explained, her heart full of so many different emotions-- wariness, apprehension, happiness at seeing him again-- unsure of how to act around him, now that he was emperor. 

Lucius walked towards her then. He looked like the same man she had known at the thermae, except dressed in vibrantly embroidered tunic and no longer covered in bruises and blood. 

"You came here... out of obligation?" he asked, an edge of disappointment in his voice.

He was standing near, but kept his distance from Cassia. She was honest with him, "Not only out of obligation."

A hint of a smile flashed across his face, and Cassia couldn't help but smile to herself. 

"What am I to call you now?" she asked, the knot in her stomach loosening in his presence.

 He gave another small smile, " whatever you want to call me."

She took a step towards him, "Caesar?... Imperator?...Hanno...?"

He laughed heartily at this last one, "you can call me Lucius."

Lucius stepped closer to Cassia and grabbed her hand, "I'm glad you came.. I had wanted to call on you sooner, but I wasn't sure if I should."

She felt comfort in the fact that he was also apprehensive, aware of each of their statuses in this world now.

"And why did you call me here?" she ran her fingers through his hair, a move he leaned into with eyes closed, "I don't think you need a bath..."

He gave a laugh and pulled her in close, his eyes searching hers, before he whispered, "you know why..."

Lucius met her lips with a sigh that stirred something in Cassia. She could feel relief in his kiss, and urgency to be as close to her as he could. His tongue brushed her lower lip and she met him with her own. Cassia kissed him as if it was the last time she would ever kiss him, or anyone, for that matter-- with a hunger, a desire to feel everything with Lucius so intensely that it would be burned into her memory forever. 

He pulled away reluctantly and led Cassia to the lavish bed that was centered just so that the moonlight shown on it through the open courtyard. Lucius pulled her in once more, untying the belted knot at her waist before turning Cassia around so her back was against his chest.

She could feel his cock, already fully hard and she hadn't even touched him yet. Lifting the fabric of her tunic, his hands, still calloused and rough from fighting, found her core.

He made slow circles around her clit, leaning into the rhythms that made her moan. Cassia grasped at him behind her, as he placed bites down her neck and collarbone. He slipped two fingers in her and pumped them in and out slowly. 

"You're already so wet for me..." he growled in her ear and retreated from within her.

 "Lucius..." Cassia breathed, her nails now digging into the side of his neck. She felt weak with pleasure, resting herself against his body.

Cassia grasped his hand as he pulled back from under her tunic, taking his fingers, still slick with her, into her own mouth. She hummed as she sucked herself off his fingers. She could hear a throaty groan from Lucius at her action and she turned back around to face him.

His mouth crashed into hers, desperate to taste what was left of her wetness. Cassia grasped at his elaborate tunic, helping him to pull the weighty fabric up and over his head.

She took a step back, pulling off her own tunic before casting a glance at his body. He might be emperor now, but he was riddled with scars-- some old, some newer, still healing. Cassia passed light fingers over his arms, feeling the taut, warm muscles, then moving her hands over his shoulders and chest.

Lucius's eyes fluttered closed, relaxing deeply at her touch. She felt along his cock with the lightest touch, feeling it twitch at the feather light feel. 

He kept his eyes closed, he breathed, " don't tease me.." 

She let her hand close around his shaft and replied, "I would never tease the emperor."

Cassia guided him back to sit on the bed while she got to her knees. Placing kisses and small bites up his strong thighs, she worked Lucius gently with her hand before taking his length into her mouth.

His cock was warm inside her mouth, filling her up to her throat, savoring the feeling and taste of him in her mouth. 

Cassia," he moaned, "Cassia, oh gods..."

 She pulled back, his cock making a pop as it left the velvety warmth of her mouth. Cassia sucked on the tip while stroking his shaft with one hand and gently massaging his weighty balls with her other.

Lucius grasped the back of her head, wrapping his hand around her hair and pulling gently. In a moment, he sat up on her elbows and looked down at her, his eyes heavy with lust, " I can't come until I have you."

She placed gentle kisses around the head of his cock, giving it one final suck before climbing on the bed. Lucius straddled her as soon as she lay back, spreading her legs open for him.

He held the tip of his cock against her cunt, rubbing it against her clit making Cassia squirm with pleasure underneath him. "Please, Lucius..." she moaned as she grasped her own breast, feeling the need to do something-- anything-- to feel pleasure. 

He dragged his cock up and down her cunt once more, gathering her wetness before he leaned down over her. Both of them stilled for a moment, simply looking into each other's eyes, their breathing was in unison now.

Lucius positioned his cock at her wet entrance and pushed in, slowly filling her up. Cassia felt her walls stretch with his length and thickness, breathing through the intensity of the stretch until he was fully in her.

He started slow and deep with his thrusts, eliciting a low moan into his ear, somehow making him even harder. He picked up his pace when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into her as deep as he could go.

Lucius placed one leg up over his shoulder, burrowing even deeper into her. Cassia arched her back into him, her breathing becoming shallow and ragged. He could tell by the way her cunt clenched around his that she was going to come soon.

Cassia held onto his arms as he continued to fuck down into her, hearing her gasp his name as he felt her approach her orgasm. He followed soon after with his own climax, crying out as he collapsed on top of her.

"I'm crushing you, I'm sorry..." he said breathlessly, attempting to roll off of her but she stopped him.

"Don't... not yet," Lucius let himself rest back into her arms.

[richeeduvie]

Baby taking in a pathetic looking wet black cat she came across one day. It doesnt stay w her forever (or maybe it does 😳) but during the time shes nursing it back to good health she lovingly calls the frail looking gremlin Roman. She’s all “I need to go home as soon as work ends today because I have to take care of Roman” and people are like ????what before she explains its the cat she took in. The real Roman overhears this one time and hes all horny bc wait what shes gonna come over and is telling everybody at waystar about it and just gets pissy and flustered when he realizes that shes talking about an incredibly pathetic looking cat

“you named something you want to take care of after me? Loser” and he bullies her about it and on the other its “im right here you can smother the real roman with love too but youre choosing rabies over me kkkk whatever”

Baby's walking along the street and hears these whiny and small meows. She looks down.

"Hello, you."

Snickers could never look as pathetic as this slimy, wet cat looks. And it looks to be a he.

Baby coos, fitting to her insulting nickname given by Roman. She picks up the mewling little thing. It looks so miserable. And it clings onto her the minute she lets it settle.

"You poor little baby. What happened to you?"

"Meow."

"It's alright, we'll get you better."

He's a frail thing. Frail, wet and drying frizzy fur when Baby takes him home.

"You need milk and water...and some heat, huh?"

The kitty does well in the bath, surprisingly. It's cartoonishly pathetic looking. But it takes the love so easily. Needily and greedily. But then, in a hour or so, he becomes entitled to Baby's attention. She's expected to be with him in the apartment all the time before he starting meowing in whines.

It reminds Baby of someone.

"I think it'll be fitting to call you Roman."

So Roman the cat is called. Her favorite thing to do is take care of Roman. Kitty Roman. Black Roman? That doesn't seem right. But human Roman hasn't been to her place in awhile, she's just been over at his - but she's been canceling sleepovers (which are daily) and it's been pissing him off.

"Oh, Mr. Roy? I though-"

"Who are you?"

"She said she had to take...I thought that meant you were sick?"

Roman stares, unblinking.

"Who?"

The poor intern is just stuttered and stuttering. "...Just...I'm sorry."

It's when Roman overhears a few other people with perfect timing.

"So, is it like a sex thing?"

"Taking care of Roman? With them? She's gonna eat his dick?"

"Why was she telling us?"

Roman doesn't breathe. He makes his way out the building quickly. He almost trips on his way out.

Why the fuck is she telling people about how she's gonna come over and they're gonna do things? Why is she describing it as taking care of him? There's no why on why it's so hot, why it makes his cock twitch. She's telling everyone about it, fuck her. He's the son of the CEO and this shit is what burns reputations but...he should go home. Or to her place.

He's antsy. He'd flick whoever would use that word to describe him, but really, Roman's pressing his hand against his crotch and struggling to breathe because she is actually going around and telling people about them.

Roman's at her place a little too quickly.

"My cock is ready, and you are a fucking bitch for telling randos about you suck me to...take care of me. Seriously...are you ovulating? You get great ideas when you do...."

And that's when Roman hears purring. He comes into her sight.

"...What the fuck?"

"Roman, meet Roman."

Cat Roman's in her lap. He's very sassy, or at least human Roman thinks so.

"What the fuck?!"

"I found him the other day, I've been busy with him. He's so needy, it's hard to keep up. But I'm glad he finally got to meet his maker. Come here."

"No! This is who you were talking about?"

"Hold him!"

"Fuck you!"

It's ridiculous, but genuine jealousy and pissyiness from Roman at the sight of the cat cuddled up with Baby. She's named a gremlin after him? What a bitch, why would she do that? Is that how she sees him?

"This is almost beastiality."

"What?"

"I mean...fucking loser. You named that after me? You taking care of it is an obvious...what does that say about you?"

"That you're pathetic. He's so needy, too. It was just the perfect name for him. He's a little bit more of a sweetheart than you-"

"Instead of coming to me, you've been nursing a pointed-ear rat instead?"

Baby clicks her tongue and presses cat Roman's head into Roman's chest. He squirms. "Don't think of him like that. I think you two would like each other."

"He smells like wet ass. Fuck. I'm telling Frank you're spiraling."

Sooner or later, Roman's slumping on the couch - he glares at the way the black kitty has his little corner with toys. This is what she's been doing for the past four days, attention on the pussy that he's sure is rubbing it in his fucking face. That thing is an alien.

"Fuck you."

Cat Roman's purring in his corner as Roman picks at his fingers.

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: Sorry this seems to have taken a really long time to get out, I've just been struggling a little with motivation lately. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and some of the characters that make an appearance ;)

CW/TW: suggestive themes, strong language

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, just let me know!)

May 25th, 2013

“To the big man. Happy birthday, brother. May you finally learn how to relax.”

The bar was bathed in a soft amber glow, perfect for the intimate group gathering. It was a high-end joint in downtown Orlando, the kind of spot that was a bit too polished to be called a dive, but not quite swanky enough to be pretentious. It was the perfect mix—just how Roman liked it. This night was about unwinding, not making any sort of statement. The kind of place where the drinks were strong, and the vibe was chill.

Roman sat at the centre of the group, a smirk playing on his lips as he nursed a whiskey neat. He leaned back in his chair, shoulders relaxed, but eyes sharp, taking in everything around him. It was his birthday, after all, but it still felt like any other day. Though, his friends had insisted on a night out, and he wasn’t one to turn down a good time. Especially not when it involved Seth and Dean.

“If that’s the case, you’re gonna be waiting a long time, Rollins.”

“Ain’t that the truth? Big man’s got a stick so far up his ass, he can’t even sit down without it poking him,” Dean teased, a crooked grin on his face as he leaned across the table to clink his beer bottle against Roman’s glass. “Man, 28. You’re getting old, dog.” 

Roman rolled his eyes, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. “Speak for your damn self, Ambrose, you only a couple years behind.”

Cackling, Dean slung his arm around Renée’s shoulders. She looked up at him with that soft, adoring gaze that only she could manage when it came to Dean. She was the only one who could tame the wild streak in him, and everyone knew it.

“Yeah, but I’ve still got my boyish charm,” Dean shot back, running his hand over each side of his beard, earning a playful slap on the chest from Renée.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” Roman quipped, taking a sip of his drink. His eyes shifted to Seth, who was busy whispering something in Leila’s ear, eliciting a giggle from her. “At least we’re not livin’ in la-la land like crazy ass over here…”

Seth glanced up, grinning. “Just keeping my lady entertained, man. You know how it is.”

Leila’s face flushed, her fingers playing with the end of her hair. “You know he’s full of it, right?”

“Absolutely,” Roman agreed. “But hey, if that’s what you into, that’s all that matters.”

Seth’s smile just grew, taking a long swig of his beer. He and Leila had been together for at least six months now, and despite the pure hectic nature of their lives, they seemed solid. For now, at least. He knew his friend had a history of prioritising his work before his personal affairs, and the cynic in Roman was waiting for the moment Leila got tired of being left behind, and inevitably threw a drink in Seth’s face. Metaphorically, and physically. Wouldn’t be the first time. But for now, it was good. Roman respected that.

In fact, he rather enjoyed his tight-knit group of friends. Really, it was DJ who was to thank for that. He was the one who introduced Roman to Seth and Dean in the first place. Renée and Leila came much later, but they both had quickly integrated nicely into the group’s dynamics.

And then there was Maria.

Despite Roman’s line of work, and his family’s dealings, Maria was still the wild card in his life. They had only just started seeing each other casually, even though they’d already known each other for a while now. Whilst he was intrigued by her, there was an undeniable air of… arrogance that seemed to follow her everywhere. She had a way of sliding into his life like she belonged there, but Roman, even at the age of 28, wasn’t blind to the signs. Still, he played along, curious to see where it would lead.

Tonight, she had reluctantly agreed to join Roman for his birthday celebration with his friends, and he was glad that she did. Even though he could only handle the woman in small doses, he still didn’t want to be sat there alone as Seth and Dean both had girls on their arms. Hell no, he wasn’t about to be the only single man at the table on his own damn birthday.

“So, Maria,” Renée started, “How did you and Roman meet? I’m not sure he’s ever mentioned you…”

“Oh, you know,” Maria began to respond, pushing a tight-lipped smile in Renée’s direction, “The usual places. Mutual friends, a couple of parties… Roman here just couldn’t resist me, I guess.”

Roman fought the urge to roll his eyes. “What she means is my mom introduced us at a party a few years back.”

“Three years ago, to be precise,” Maria leaned into his arm, her eyes narrowing a little at Renée. 

“And you’ve been together for how long?” Dean asked, giving his girlfriend a comforting squeeze as he sensed the budding animosity between the two.

“Hmm…” Maria’s face twisted, before she tilted her head upwards to look at Roman. “Mio Dio, quanto tempo é passato, tesoro?”

With a sigh, the Samoan lowered his voice. “Te l’ho detto prima… English. Just when we’re here, va bene?” 

Maria stuck out her bottom lip, and returned the sigh, although hers was far more dramatic. Everything about her was dramatic at this point. She turned back to Dean and shot him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Two months.”

“Woah,” Seth gasped, widening his eyes at Leila. “Two whole months, babe, did ya hear that?”

“A’ight, you don’t need to be a bitch about it, Rollins,” Roman scolded. Maria’s hand found his leg, giving it a small squeeze. He wasn’t sure if it was out of affection, or if she was just feeling particularly handsy tonight. 

“Anyway…” Leila, sensing the atmosphere’s shift, changed the topic. “What do you do, Maria? Y’know, when you’re not charming the pants off the big man?”

For the first time that night, Maria lit up. It was in her eyes, the sea green in them becoming more vibrant at the opportunity to talk about her favourite topic: Maria Larusso. “I work in fashion, mostly. PR and events. It’s all about networking and making the right connections.”

Dean snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like a lot of schmoozing to me.”

Maria’s expression hardened, but kept her tone light—almost professional. “It’s a skill, Dean. Not everybody can be good at it.” She glanced at Renée. “And not everybody has the natural ability to work in fashion.”

Dean’s eyes shot to Roman, as if to ask if he was just going to sit there and let his tag-along insult his girlfriend—and by default, him—like that. But Roman honestly just wanted to steer the conversation away from the growing tension.

“We’re all good at our own shit, ‘kay?” he said diplomatically. “But tonight ain’t supposed to be about work, let’s just enjoy ourselves for once.”

Seth nodded, raising his glass. “To Roman, the future Head of the Table—whether he wants to admit it or not.”

Everyone clinked glasses, though Roman couldn’t ignore the tightening in his chest at the title his friend had given him. It had been a running joke for the past few months, since Leila asked him what made him initiate the idea of working with Seth and Dean. The family business, The Bloodline, was always going to be there, but he wanted to see what else was out there. Prove to himself that he could do more than just assume a position because he was expected to.

Seth and Dean, and their whole organisation, was supposed to be a way to branch out, to find new opportunities. But now…. Well, it just didn’t pan out that way.

But the inevitable. Taking over as Head of the Table, the shot-caller, the rule-maker of his family… It was a role he knew was coming, one that carried both power and responsibility, but also a weight that he wasn’t sure he was ready to bear.

Maria leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “You’ll be great at it, baby. You were born for it.”

He turned to look at her with an unreadable expression. She was right, of course, but her words didn’t necessarily comfort him the way she intended. Instead, they reminded him of everything he was trying to avoid—the pressure, the expectations, the loss of control over his own life. Maybe he was just being stubborn. He knew he’d be the best leader his family had ever known. It was just… the idea of conforming, as unconventional of a job title it was.

But he’d figure it out. He always did. For now, he’d just enjoy this period of his life for everything it had to offer.

When the bar staff began shutting down for the night, the group decided to up and leave, the alcohol consumption softened the rough edges to Maria’s tone, which ultimately made the evening far more pleasurable. Their laughter trailed off as they made their way to the parking lot, Seth joking about how they’d all crash at his place, continue the party there, but the sight of the last man they wanted to see leaning against Seth’s truck brought everything to a halt.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath, his usually playful demeanour replaced with irritation. Seth’s face darkened as he quickened his pace, Roman following suit, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Hunter Helmsley. The man wasn’t just an annoyance; he was a constant reminder of the grip he and his wife Stephanie had on the trio, and by extension, Roman’s life.

Hunter straightened up as they approached. “Evening, gentleman. Sorry to crash the party, but this is urgent.”

“Doesn’t it always seem to be?” Seth shot back, his tone laced with sarcasm as he unlocked his truck.

The girls sensed the change in the air and exchanged concerned glances. Leila moved closer to Seth, while Renée gave Dean a questioning look. Maria, on the other hand, seemed more put out than worried, her pout growing more pronounced by the second.

Roman glanced at her, reading the frustration in her eyes. She hated being left out of things, hated even more that Hunter’s appearance meant the night wasn’t going to end how she’d hoped. She was acting out, and Roman could feel the tautness growing between them, the unspoken challenge in her gaze.

“I’ll call a cab for you all,” Roman said, pulling out his phone. He exchanged a look with Dean, who nodded, and Seth, who was already on the phone with the cab company.

Leila squeezed Seth’s arm. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Seth nodded, his expression softening slightly as he reassured her. “Yeah, babe. Just some business we gotta handle. I’ll see you soon.”

Renée gave Dean a quick kiss, muttering something about not doing anything stupid, to which Dean grinned and promised nothing of the sort. But Maria remained stiff beside Roman, her irritation palpable.

“You’re just gonna send me off like that?” Maria’s voice had that high-pitched edge to it, one that Roman had become all too familiar with. It was the tone she used when she was testing him, pushing his buttons to see how far she could go. “I thought this was your night.”

Roman turned to her, glaring down at her. “It is my night. Which means I have to deal with this first. I’ll call you when we’re done here, okay?”

Maria crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “Fine. But you better not keep me waiting all night, Roman.”

His eyes darkened as he closed the space between them, lowering his head to speak directly into her ear, his words meant only for her. “You know I ain’t gon’ do that to you, amore. I said I’ll call, and when I see you, I want you to wear that thing I like… you know which one?”

She felt a shudder down her spine at his words, his low whisper one of her favourite sounds. “Yeah…”

“Bene… So, go back to your place,” he continued, bringing his hand up to trace his thumb over her lower lip. “And I’ll see you later, yeah?”

A flush crept up her neck as she realised he was serious. The edge of brattiness in her demeanour softened, replaced with something more compliant, more submissive. Roman knew she liked the chase, the control he had in these specific moments. It was a dynamic they both enjoyed, even if they wouldn’t admit it openly. 

She nodded, her voice a little breathless now. “Va bene, Papi…”

Roman gave her a final nod, then watched as she and the other girls climbed into the cab Seth had called. As the car pulled away, Maria’s eyes stayed locked on Roman’s until they disappeared into the night.

With the girls gone, the mood shifted entirely. Roman turned back to Hunter, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mildly amused look on his face. Seth and Dean flanked Roman as they approached Hunter, the three of them forming a united front.

“This better be good, Helmsley,” Dean said lowly.

Hunter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thin manila folder, handing it over to Roman. “We need eyes on both of them,” he said, all business.

Roman took the folder, his brow furrowing as he opened it and pulled out the sheet of paper inside. The first name on the list was one he recognised immediately—Dimitri Volkov. He’d heard of the man before, a figure in the Russian sector with connections to some dangerous circles. Roman’s family had dealings with the Russians before, but Dimitri was someone they’d kept their distance from. Volkov was known to be unpredictable, ruthless.

But it was the second name that made Roman’s blood run cold. He didn’t need to read the full report to know what this meant. His eyes flicked to the second name, and for a moment, he couldn’t fathom what he was seeing.

“Fuck,” Roman muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

Seth and Dean, noticing the shift in Roman’s demeanour, leaned in to see the name for themselves. Seth’s jaw clenched, and Dean’s features turned to stone.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean breathed, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell are we getting into now?”

Roman handed the folder to Seth, who quickly scanned the details, his face hardening with every word. “This is bad,” he finally said tightly. “Really fucking bad.”

Hunter nodded grimly. “We’re not asking you to take action. Just keep your eyes open. Report anything suspicious. We need to know what they’re planning for shit hits the fan.”

Mind racing, Roman tried to piece together the implications of this new development. Dimitri Volkov was dangerous, but the second name—no, he didn’t see that one coming. And to be associated with Volkov of all people? Damn. 

Seth closed the folder, handing it back to Hunter. “We’ll do it,” he said. “But we’re not your fucking errand boys. Remember that.”

Hunter gave them a curt nod. “I wouldn’t dream of forgetting. Just do your part, and we’ll all get through this.”

With that, Hunter turned and walked away, leaving the three men standing in the parking lot, the weight of their task settling heavy on their shoulders.

“Let’s get back to my place,” Seth finally said, breaking the tense silence. “We need to figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do.”

As the three of them drove away in Seth’s truck, Roman’s thoughts kept drifting back to that second name. So unexpected. A shame, even. But at the end of the day, even Roman knew that anyone who acquires a Volkov as an ally, is one dangerous son of a bitch.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Nate stood poised, her stance grounded and shoulders relaxed as she squeezed the trigger of her Desert Eagle, sending another round straight into the forehead of the paper target hanging a dozen yards away.

The target bore the smirking visage of Boris, his smug expression now riddled with bullet holes. Nate lowered her gun slightly, exhaling a controlled breath as smoke curled from the barrel. The scent of gunpowder lingered in the cool, crisp air, mingling with the faint aroma of cedar that permeated the indoor range.

She adjusted her provocative earmuffs, momentarily silencing the aggressive beats of Marilyn Manson’s “The Fight Song” blaring through the Bluetooth speaker perched on a nearby shelf. The music reverberated off the concrete walls, matching the intensity simmering beneath her calm exterior.

Nate ejected the empty magazine with a swift motion, her fingers deftly retrieving a fresh clip from the table beside her. As she reloaded, her mind wandered, replaying the events of the past few days with a clarity that was both unsettling and exhilarating.

A month ago, it would have been Roman’s face adorning that target, his dark brown eyes and arrogant smirk serving as motivation for her impeccable aim. She would have taken pleasure in imagining each bullet tearing through his likeness, a symbolic victory over the man who had been a thorn in her family’s side for, apparently, a decade.

But now, as she stared into the paper eyes of Boris, Nate realised with a wry smirk that her animosity had shifted. Boris represented everything she despised—entitlement, arrogance, and the suffocating expectations of her father. Roman, on the other hand… Well, Roman was complicated.

She slammed the magazine into place, the metallic click echoing through the empty range. Complicated was an understatement. The memory of that night in Red Hook flashed through her mind, unbidden and vivid. The adrenaline-fuelled chaos of Bunny’s compound had spilled over into a different kind of frenzy between them—a collision of wills and desires that left her breathless and more than a little conflicted. It had been raw, intense, and utterly unexpected.

But she could vividly remember the way his ridiculously large hand took a hold of her throat, damn near cutting off circulation, and she could still feel the after effects of his size. She didn’t even get to take a look at him like that, but she sure felt it. It was like he was still there, the slight discomfort between her legs forcing her to relive it. But it wasn’t supposed to have happened. Nate shook her head, attempting to dislodge the lingering images that threatened to distract her. She was here to clear her mind, not dwell on questionable decisions made under the influence of hormones and poor judgement.

Still, she couldn’t deny that it had been some of the best sex she’d had in… Well, years. Maybe ever. But perhaps that was just the drought talking. It had been a long time since she’d let anyone get close, let alone someone like Roman.

She raised the gun again, taking aim at Boris’ already decimated face. The weight of the weapon was comforting, grounding her in the present as she focused her breathing. Inhale, exhale. Squeeze.

Another shot rang out, the bullet piercing through the centre of Boris’ forehead, right between his cold, dead eyes. Satisfying.

Nate allowed herself a small, triumphant smile as she lowered the gun once more, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension coiled there. Her leg throbbed faintly, a reminder of the injury she’d sustained during the ambush. The wound was healing well, thanks to Roman’s impromptu field dressing and a subsequent visit to a discreet family doctor. The stitches itched beneath the bandage, but she welcomed the discomfort—it kept her alert, reminded her of the stakes.

That morning, she’d sent a terse text to Roman on her burner phone, requesting a call later in the afternoon. There was information he needed to know—details about the assailants at Bunny’s compound that hadn’t fully registered 100% in the heat of the moment but had crystalised in her mind over the past couple of days.

As bullets had rained down around them, Nate had caught a glimpse of a distinctive emblem above one of the tail lights of the attackers’ vehicle—a lineup of green, white, and orange. It was a flag most people recognised when faced with it, but to Nate, it ran so much deeper. So deep, in fact, that she began to second guess herself and her intuitions during this whole situation.

And if who she thought was involved was involved, things were about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

Nate set the gun down on the table, flexing her fingers to release the residual tension. The music shifted to “The Last Day on Earth,” a much darker, slower track with a haunting melody. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound wash over her as she pieced together her thoughts.

We are trembling in our crutches,

High and dead, our skin is glass.

Transparency. That’s what she’d demanded from Roman, and that’s what she intended to give in return. As much as it went against her instincts, against years of training to trust no one and reveal nothing, she knew that withholding this information would do more damage than good. 

Her phone vibrated on the table, pulling her from her reverie. She glanced at the screen—just a notification from Lana, sending her updates on some new fashion line she’d invested in. Nate smiled faintly, appreciating the normalcy amidst the chaos. She typed a quick reply before setting the phone back down, her gaze drifting back to the target downrange. Boris’ face was nearly unrecognisable now, the paper shredded and hanging in tatters. 

It was a fitting representation of her feelings toward him. The thought of being forced into marriage with that insufferable prick once again made her want to throw up everywhere.

The aura of the estate since Dimitri had sprung the news on her with the same casual indifference he used when discussing business deals, had taken a nosedive. And now that Boris was moving in, now that she was expected to share a bed with the man…. It was enough to make her consider drastic measures.

But then there was Roman. The memory of how alive he made her feel, his strength, the way he’d looked at her with that infuriating mix of arrogance and desire—it all made her question her own judgement. Getting involved with him was dangerous on so many levels, but at this point, she couldn’t deny the pull. It was like being drawn to a storm—chaotic, unpredictable, and exhilarating.

Nate’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. After the ambush, she’d been on edge a little more than usual. She tensed instinctively, her hand moving toward the gun before recognising the familiar gait of Olga, her father’s secretary.

She entered the range, giving Nate a small nod of acknowledgement. “Practising again, Natalka?” she asked.

Nate offered her a small smile, easing her stance. “Always. Can’t get rusty, now.”

Olga chuckled, her gaze drifting to the obliterated target downrange. “Seems Boris has had a rough day.”

“Just getting started,” Nate’s smile widened.

Olga maintained a sense of professionalism at all times whenever at the estate, purely due to Dimitri’s vice-like grip on all employees, even his own family. But she relaxed a little in Nate’s presence. A little being the operative phrase. Olga was still fully aware of how dangerous Nate could be when pushed wrong, but she was nowhere near as patronising and overpowering as her father.

“Mr. Volkov is looking for you,” she said gently. “He wants to discuss some arrangements.”

Nate’s smile vanished, replaced by a mask of indifference. “Let me guess—more wedding plans?”

Olga’s expression was somewhat sympathetic. “Perhaps. But you know how he is. Best not keep him waiting.”

Nate nodded, suppressing the surge of frustration rising within her. “I’ll be there soon. Thanks, Olga.”

The smaller woman adjusted her blazer and nodded, before turning on her heel and leaving the range, the door closing softly behind her.

Alone once more, Nate exhaled slowly, trying to centre herself. She glanced at her watch—still a couple of hours before she’d expect a call from Roman. Plenty of time to face her father and whatever new demands he had for her.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Roman sat on the patio of his villa in Pensacola, the warm Florida sun casting a golden glow over the pristine stretch of beach in front of him. The sound of waves gently lapping against the short was a soothing balm after the chaos of New York, and for the first time in days, he felt some of the tension begin to ease from his shoulders. This place was a sanctuary, far removed from the storm brewing in his other life.

But the peace was short-lived.

From inside the villa, the sharp, pointed voice of Maria echoed through the open French doors, cutting through the calm like a knife. Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair, now loose and tousled from the sea breeze. He’d invited her down here as part of his effort to be the father Ava needed, and because Maria had made it abundantly clear that she expected him to be more involved. But he knew better than to think Maria would let him enjoy this trip without a few verbal jabs.

“Roman, are you even listening to me?” Maria appeared in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

He took a deep breath, forcing a calm smile onto his face as he turned to look at her. “Yeah, Maria, I hear you. Just tryin’ to enjoy a minute of peace, is all.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Peace? Must be nice to have that luxury. Meanwhile, I’ve been dealing with everything here while you’re off playing gangsters in New York.”

He bit back a retort, reminding himself that Ava was the reason they were all there together, not for them to rehash old arguments. “Look, I came down here and let you stay so I could spend more time with Ava, like you asked. Ain’t that what you wanted?”

Maria’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh, so now it’s what I wanted? Don’t act like you’re doing me a favour, Romano. You should have been doing this from that start.”

Roman felt the familiar burn of frustration rising in his chest but kept his expression neutral. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. But I’m here now. That count for somethin’, don’t it?”

Maria’s lips pursed as if she was considering a cutting response, but instead, she just huffed and turned away, retreating back inside. Roman watched her go, shaking his head slightly. This was the dance they always did whenever they saw each other—one step forward, two steps back. No matter what he did, it was never enough for her.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the sound of the waves again. But even with his eyes closed, he could hear Maria in the background, talking to Ava in that overly sweet tone she used when she wanted to make a point in front of him.

“Dai, Ava, let’s go inside and get ready for lunch. Daddy’s busy out here.”

Roman’s jaw clenched at the passive-aggressive dig, but he forced himself to relax, letting it all roll off his back. It wasn’t worth it. Not today.

“Daddy, are you coming too?” Ava’s voice broke through his thoughts, soft and hopeful.

He opened his eyes and turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway, her big eyes looking at him expectantly. She was holding a seashell in one hand, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Course I am, princess,” he replied, his tone warm as he stood up and walked over to her. He ruffled her hair gently, earning a giggle from her. “You find somethin’ cool out there?”

Ava nodded eagerly, holding up the seashell for him to see. “Look! It’s got a little hole in it, like a necklace.”

Roman took the shell from her, inspecting it with exaggerated interest. “Wow, that’s somethin’ special, huh? Maybe we can make you a necklace outta it later.”

Ava’s eyes lit up, and she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Yeah! Can we, Daddy?”

He smiled, genuinely this time, and handed the shell back to her. “You bet, kiddo. We’ll make it real nice.”

Maria appeared behind Ava, her arms still crossed, but her expression had softened slightly as she watched the interaction between Roman and their daughter. “Lunch is almost ready,” she said more neutrally. “Don’t keep her waiting too long.”

Roman nodded, placing a hand on Ava’s back to gently guide her inside. “We’ll be right there.”

As they walked inside, Maria lingered by the door, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Roman with Ava. She didn’t say anything, but he could feel the weight of her gaze on him, the unspoken expectations hanging between them.

Once inside, Ava ran ahead to the dining room, eager to show off her shell to Roman’s chef. Roman paused in the hallway, glancing at Maria, who was still watching him closely.

“Listen, Maria,” he began, lowering his voice. “I know I ain’t been the perfect father. But I’m here now, and I’m tryin’. I want what’s best for Ava, just like you do.”

Although she didn’t let go of her defensive stance, she did chill out a bit with the glaring. “I know you love her, Roman. But she needs more than just a few visits. She needs consistency.”

Roman nodded, understanding her point, even if he didn’t like the way she went about making it. “You’re right. I’m gonna do better. But you gotta meet me halfway, alright? It’s a two person job, whether we like it or not.”

Maria’s eyes searched his for a moment before she sighed, some of the tension leaving her body. “Alright. But don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He gave her a small, almost weary smile. “I won’t.”

With that, they both headed into the dining room, where Ava was already chattering away with the chef, her excitement infectious. Roman took a seat next to her, listening to her talk with a smile.

But honestly… as guilty as it made him feel, his mind was elsewhere.

That morning, just as he’d settled into the idea of a quiet few days in Florida, a text from Nate had popped up on his phone:

We need to talk. It’s urgent. Call me this afternoon.

The message had been a sucker punch, coming out of nowhere when all he wanted was to disconnect from New York’s bullshit. He’d hoped she’d disappear from his radar for a while, let him regroup, but of course, Nate had to stir the pot just as he was trying to enjoy some rare time with his daughter.

Now it was lunchtime, and he was already calculating how he could sneak away for a call later on. It wasn’t just the logistics that bothered him; it was the gnawing guilt that came with it. He knew Nate wasn’t aware of his situation down here, of the fragile balance he was trying to maintain with Maria and Ava. But that didn’t stop the resentment from bubbling up.

Still, Maria’s eyes were on him, watching like a hawk as he tried to stay focused on Ava’s animated story about the shell she’d found. Her gaze was sharp, unrelenting, as if she could sense the disruption to his peace before he’d even said a word.

“You’re quiet,” Maria commented, her tone deceptively light as she took a sip of wine. “Something on your mind?”

Roman forced a smile, shaking his head. “Just enjoyin’ bein’ here, that’s all.”

Maria wasn’t buying it, he could tell. But before she could press any further, Ava tugged on his sleeve, demanding his attention. “Daddy, can we go to the beach after lunch? To make the necklace?”

He smiled down at her, his hand resting on her small shoulder. “Sure thing, princess. We’ll go right after.”

Maria didn’t say anything, but Roman could feel it. He knew she wasn’t going to let it slide if he disappeared somewhere for a call later. But you know… he’d figure it out. Always did, right? 

After lunch, when Ava had gone to get her bucket and spade, Maria cornered him in the kitchen.

“You’re hiding something,” she said with an accusatory tone. “What’s going on, Roman?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothin’ that concerns you, that’s for damn sure. Just some business shit.”

Maria narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Business with who? Who is more important than your daughter right now?”

“Nobody’s more important than Ava, don’t even go there,” Roman slid past Maria, shaking his head. “I ain’t in the mood to talk shop when I’m here tryin’ to spend time with our daughter.”

Maria wasn’t letting up, though. “If you’re gonna be here, be here. Not off in New York in your head.”

He clenched his jaw, knowing she did have a point but entirely unwilling to admit it. “I told you I’m handling it. Just drop it, I’m tired of repeatin’ shit.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Ava came running back into the room, excitement radiating from the small human’s body. “Daddy, I’m ready!”

Maria threw her hands up, giving him a pointed look. “Fine, fanculo a me, cosa ne so?” she murmured to herself as she left the two alone. But Roman just ignored his ex-wife, crouching down in front of Ava to move some of her hair back to the correct side of her parting.

“Let’s go make that necklace, huh?”

Roman tried to enjoy his time at the beach with his daughter, his only child, but that nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept growing. In particular, the text from Nate was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t just the urgency of the message, though that was most of it; it was something a little more subtle, something he hated admitting even to himself. There was something about hearing Nate’s voice, something that made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a while. It wasn’t that he liked her—God, no. But she woke him up, made his blood hum with that infuriating confidence of hers, the way she wasn’t scared of him at all. That got under his skin in a way he couldn’t quite shake.

The hours slipped by, and Roman knew he’d have to make the call soon. He tried to push it off, focus on Ava as she splashed in the waves, but Maria’s mood swings weren’t helping. She was being her usual insufferable self, nitpicking every little thing. And when she complained about them being out of orange juice, he saw his chance. Finally.

“I’ll go grab some,” he offered, already standing up before Maria could even argue. He didn’t wait for her to say anything else, just headed back to the house to grab his keys, telling Ava he’d be back soon.

As he drove to the store, he kept glancing at his phone, feeling that familiar combination of annoyance and anticipation. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, he was ready to just get it over with. He parked, checked his surroundings, and then dialled Nate’s number on his burner phone.

She answered on the third ring, her voice carrying that familiar edge of confidence. “Reigns.”

“Hey, Princess,” he drawled, the nickname mockingly rolling off his tongue with ease.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and he could almost picture the eye roll and the light grimace on her face. “Look at you calling me when you actually said you would… I’m shocked.”

Roman couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t get used to it. You said it was urgent, so I figured I’d give you the honour of hearin’ my voice.”

“Lucky me,” Nate shot back, very little heat behind her words. If anything, she sounded… amused. “Where are you anyway? Dad said movement’s been quiet.”

“Y’know that doesn’t inspire much trust, knowing that you and your daddy have your eyes on us 24/7, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. I’m the Head of the Table, your Tribal Chief,” she deepened her tone, clearly attempting a half-hearted impression of him. “You can’t handle a little bit of surveillance?”

“A’ight…” Roman rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I’m in Florida. Visitin’ some family.” He didn’t really want to give too much away, and didn't feel the need to divulge his personal issues with someone he barely trusted. That was a card he intended to keep close to his chest.

“Family, eh?” Nate’s accent was laced with curiosity. “Everything alright?”

Roman narrowed his brows at the unexpected layer of concern in her voice. “Is this your way of tellin’ me you care?”

Nate’s laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Not particularly. But anything’s better than listening to Boris go on about exercises for the male genitalia.”

Roman barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. “What, you’re not into that, Princess?”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” she retorted, but he could hear that faintest hint of a smile in her voice. It was almost too easy.

“So what’s this urgent thing?” Roman asked, steering the conversation back on track. He didn’t want to linger too long on the banter, not when he was already feeling more affected by Nate than he liked.

She hesitated for a moment before she answered seriously. “It’s about the, uh… ambush,” she breathed. “Now that a few days has passed, things have kind of… pieced together.” She paused. “The car that rushed us. There was a… flag above the tail lights. I think—think—I know who did it.”

That caught Roman’s attention. He straightened in his seat. “Who?”

Nate sighed. “I’m not comfortable saying it over the phone, okay? But I will say this—I don’t think Bunny or any of his guys actually have anything to do with the shipment being stolen, or in taking out Priest.”

“You sure?” Roman asked through a jolt of surprise.

“Pretty sure,” Nate replied firmly. “But I need to explain it in person. It’s… complicated.”

Roman rubbed his jaw, considering her words. If she was right, this had the potential to change… a lot of things. New leads, new locations. “Alright. When I’m back, we’ll meet up. Your place in Tribeca sound good?”

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment, and Roman almost expected Nate to laugh it off. But when she answered, it was calm, resigned. “Yeah. My place.”

He was shocked she agreed so easily, but it made sense. Her penthouse was private, secure. She had control over the security, the way they entered the building. If they were going to have a serious conversation, that was the place to do it.

“Fine, fine… Gives us a chance to go over how we’re gonna tell the others. I’ll be back in a couple days.”

There was a brief silence, and then Nate’s voice softened slightly. “Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“...Be careful, okay?”

Roman frowned, caught off guard. “Why, you worried?”

Nate laughed wistfully. “No. But if you get yourself into trouble, who’s gonna make my life miserable?”

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure Boris has that job down,” he snorted. “But I’ll be careful for your ass, anyways, Princess. See you soon.”

Ending the call, he leaned back in his seat and stared out at the parking lot. The conversation had left him feeling… unsettled. He didn’t like how easily he could converse with Nate, how much he… looked forward to their verbal sparring. 

As he got out of the car and headed into the grocery store, he pushed those thoughts aside. He had other things to worry about—like getting the orange juice before Maria threw another fit. But in the back of his mind, Nate’s voice lingered—as it fucking always did—and he just sensed that their next meeting was about to open a whole can of worms.

He just wasn’t prepared for how personal the can of worms would turn out to be.

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

Cassian ran to the bedchamber, his armour clanking loudly as he did. A woman guarded the door.

"I rode back from the hunt as quickly as I could - is the baby born?"

"Not yet, my Lord. Her ladyship is still in labour. I've been informed it is progressing well."

As if timed, a scream from Regina rang out from behind the door.

"Eurgh... I remember that sound from the last times I saw childbirth. I think I'll give this bit a pass and take a bath. She doesn't need the smell of boar blood and sweat stinking up the room."

"Very well, my Lord."

Cassian began to turn away and then looked back again, as if registering the woman at the door for the first time. He immediately noticed how incredibly beautiful she was.

"Who are you, exactly?" he asked.

The woman was clearly offended by the question.

"Lady Regina," she replied.

Confused, Cassian asked, "Are you like my wife's... twin, or something?"

"No, my Lord, we are not related though we do share the same name. I am her Ladyship's lady-in-waiting..." when she saw Cassian was still not recognising her, she continued, "I've been with your household since you married..." With still no recognition, her tone became increasingly irritated. "I've been stood in a corner of practically every room you've been in all season?"

Cassian exhaled and raised his eyebrows, "Bloody hell, I must be really good at shutting out servants from my view."

"I'm not a servant. I am a Lady," bristled Lady Regina.

"Of course, of course - sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant I must've been pretty oblivious to all the shit going on around me lately," added Cassian quickly. He smiled coyly then added, "Though I am surprised someone as beautiful as you escaped my notice. I won't let that happen again."

Cassian turned to head for the bathroom, but Lady Regina mumbled something under her breath that made him turn again.

"Did you just call me a dickhead?" he asked.

Lady Regina struggled for words as she initially attempted to deny, "I... no... I.... you must have...," but something within her seemed to stop her from finishing the lie. She sighed resignedly and said, "Yes... yes, I did. I've seen you every day. I was at your wedding, for God's sake, and you don't recognise me? In my book - that makes you a bit of a dickhead."

Cassian smirked and said sincerely, "I like you."

As he walked away, Lady Regina dropped her head to try and suppress her smile. Talking to Cassian had only confirmed the feeling she had had every day as she watched him with Lady Regina - for all his flaws, there was something irritably and irresistibly charming about him.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

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[cas-readsandwrites]

GLICKED

I somehow managed to coordinate a group of friends into seeing not one but TWO movies today. Gonna blarf my thoughts on both below the cut if you're interested in some storytelling discourse! All the spoilers, beware beware...

GLADIATOR aka "this feels familiar didn't we just have an election about this or something". I think it was an acceptable seasonal blockbuster, it struck a medium between enticing characters that made me go WAIT STOP SLOW DOWN I want to know more! (this is why fanfic exists) and between a plot that felt heavy enough to roll on it's as own as long as you didn't stop and think about it too much. The twin emperors gave me the ICK so I guess they were effective in that way. Denzel's character was probably my favorite. Obviously I am here for Pedro, but fuckin BRICK WALL PAUL ok that was impressive.

Going into it, my main question was how they were going to put Lucius and Acacius at odds and how that was going to resolve... DID NOT LOVE that both Acacius and Lucilla had to die but it makes sense harking back to what Acacius said about not wanting to sacrifice another generation of young men to feed Rome... he had to sacrifice himself to make way for change for the next generation. I'm unconvinced about Lucius' dedication to the cause, which I don't think was Paul's fault I think it was just the plot and the writing not giving enough time or opportunities for any complexities. My headcanon is that he feels really resigned and for some reason he wants to live and so he is basically forced to step into this, if he didn't want to live I think he would have figured a way to yeet himself off in one of the first fights and die with honor like his fellow commander guy. (listen the Imax was so big and so loud I was so overwhelmed and I don't know what half the characters names are).

I liked it more than I thought I would, I was thinking it was going to be a pointless blood bath but I did like all the conniving ploys that came together. Some of the symbolism felt a little heavy handed but it was effective, like seeing the differences in "government for the people" portrayed in the arena vs in the senate vs the very end with the two armies with Lucius literally uniting them. And the meta perspective of watching Roman citizens watch a war game in the coliseum... oh right, isn't that what we're doing in this movie theater?

Basically, fanfic writers have at it, because I want a novelization of everything. Denzel did a great job but I want MORE, which is where I think some of it fell flat for me like who is not keeping guard on Lucilla and just letting her walk around and visit her son as a prisoner, and how did Acacius get so jaded with war but still build up basically an entire army loyal to only him, and where did Denzel learn all these skills? The PPCU is the first fandom I've been in where the Reader Insert style is overwhelmingly popular, and I feel like I'm always more comfortable diving in to the in-betweens of established characters, and I'm drawn to the backstory and dynamic between Acacius and Lucilla... so stay tuned, perhaps.

~~ 45 minute intermission where we went for a quick lap around the theater, refilled, and back in for Wicked! Let's see how what the overlap in fandoms is here...

Same as Gladiator, honestly, I thought it was FINE. Wicked was not **my** musical, like so many other theater kids growing up, but I do appreciate it and I've seen it a bunch of times. I hope the theater kids are happy with it, I think it did the stage show justice. I'm not sure how they stretched the first act to fill almost the same timeslot as the entire show without really adding to it? I was a little disappointed they didn't pull in more from the book or add more with Nessa or more universe-building knowledge about magic. Ariana Grande surprised me and I thought she did great, Cynthia I had no doubt would be stellar. J Bail ATE. I am excited for P2 with As Long as You're Mine and No Good Deed. Though, that brings me to two final things: this is PG which from a marketing and numbers perspective I understand, but are we going to lose some of the intensity in P2? Also, HOW did my confused questionably queer self in high school and college COMPLETELY MISS the subtext between Glinda and Elphaba, and props to this movie for managing to sneak some of that in despite that PG rating.

Thank you for tuning in, and I am interested to hear what others think! I think the discussion about storytelling universes and our explorations of what our perceived themes, standouts, etc are is so interesting, being mostly surrounded by various creators on this platform. I think it makes for excellent fanfic fuel!

I am surprisingly pretty exhausted after all that - it was definitely a sensory fest and an emotional ride to experience over 6 hours of major media today!

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thank you for doing the lord's work, I discovered some amazing fics thanks to this blog, and I'm so so grateful! I was wondering if there are fics where Aziraphale takes care of / bathes / soothes Crowley's burned feet after the church scene? Thank you again <3

Hi! We’re so happy you like the blog. Here are a bunch of feet washing fics set after the 1941 church scene...

Reverberations by MrsMoosie (T)

After the bombs fall in 1941, Crowley finds he is in need of more care than for the burns on his feet.

Kiss It Better by KannaOphelia (T)

Might as well admit it all. Well, not all. Probably not the right moment for I love you, I've always loved you, you took my world when you walked away, my reason for not even caring that I've been damned, I've been stalking you like the creepy demon I'm supposed to be ever since, do you know you're beautiful? "I thought you were saying we were nothing to each other, and I said things I didn't mean. I'm sorry, all right?" There was a long moment in which Crowley stared at his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for Aziraphale to say something. Counting breaths. Six breaths. Seven, eight... "I have first aid supplies in the bookshop. Come along now, don't dawdle, dear boy." "Yeah. Yeah, right. Fine. If you like." * * * The obligatory post-Church bombing scene every Good Omens author must write. With foot-kissing.

As I Have Loved You by summerofspock (T)

Aziraphale takes care of Crowley's burned feet after the church scene.

Deus Ibi Est by missgiven (G)

At the church in 1941, Crowley saves Aziraphale, but hurts himself badly in the process.

Aziraphale tends to Crowley's injured feet, inadvertently echoing John 13:4-5.

(Or: a foot-washing fic.)

Color Me Free by small_blue_owl (G)

When the bomb went off, Aziraphale was calm. Collected. Sure.

It wasn’t until a leather bag of books was placed in his hands by a certain demon that Aziraphale realized the bomb that had gone off in his heart. And in the burning ruins and clouds of smoke, something new appeared. Something soft yet powerful, something gloriously, impossibly, dangerously true. Something that had been caged in his heart for centuries and only just now had been given wings.

-or- Aziraphale comes to a realization after the incident in 1941

The Self-Informing Clavier Player by Jackie Thomas (NR)

There is pacing, peering out of windows, disturbing the books, rifling through the books, mis-shelving the books. He wanders about on the ceiling for a while until the shop bell rings and Aziraphale shoos him down with a broom.

Crowley shelters from Hell in the bookshop.

Let Me Shelter You by TogetherAgain (NR)

This was supposed to be a brief history of the umbrella, Ineffable style. It was also supposed to be pure fluff.

I have no idea how that 1941 post-church scene got into the history of the umbrella. I swear it's not my fault.

Mild CW for indirect references to mustard gas, panic attacks, and the Holocaust, but I promise this is MOSTLY happy, and it should leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

By the time Crawley became Crowley, he had a collection of objects he had made by hand, in times and places all over the world, all with the hope of someday pretending it was his wing that he was holding over Aziraphale. He hadn’t been able to do so with any of them, but that was hardly going to stop him from trying.

Crowley’s Roman parasol eventually joined the rest of his collection of Things Intended to Give Aziraphale Shelter, Which Have Never Done Their Job. It was a very impressive collection.

The Touch of Your Hand by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

After a moment of casual contact in Rome, Crowley realizes that he’s touch-starved. He dreams about holding Aziraphale’s hand or—even better—hugging him. But Aziraphale is an angel, and Crowley is a demon. And demons don’t deserve hand holding or hugs…do they?

- Mod D

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Ken-Doll and the Ugly Fuckling has me crying! 😂

What tf is it?

LOL It is a Kendall Roy x Reader fic! Some lil snippets have been teased here, but here's another that I don't think I've posted yet

Maybe you should be more like Roman—faster to tell people to fuck off. You’re not sure Romie’s had many positive influences on you, but that could be one, right? 

Maybe you should be more like Shiv—willing to stand your ground, even when it feels wrong. You’ve always had a lingering admiration for her, and that was one of the reasons. 

But you step back, and nod Kendall inside, giving him a wide berth as he comes in. You peer into the hall to see if anyone saw Kendall come inside, then shut the door behind yourselves. When you turn around, Kendall’s looking around your room like he’s never seen it before. Maybe he hasn’t. The Roy’s fucking ten-bed-eight-bath Hamptons McMansion probably has a lot of rooms that Kendall either has never seen, or hasn’t seen in a long time. As he begins to turn back toward you, you push yourself off of the door, heading for where you left your drink. You don’t offer him one, despite the bar cart in the corner. You just sit on the edge of the desk, prop your feet up on the chair there, and wait. 

Send an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

[matan4il]

So, I've been waiting to see if anyone will ask this question and no one to my knowledge has. I guess that means I'll have to. Do you think the show has any intention of putting Eddie with Lucy? When they kept mentioning her as a female Buck all I could think about is them pairing her up with Eddie as a way to keep Buck and Eddie apart or maybe as a way for Eddie to actually realize that he's in love with Buck by realizing that he's with Lucy because she reminds him a bit of Buck.

Anyway, I hope you're feeling well and that your health is better.

Hi lovely and oooh, thank you for the question!

Honestly, it's such a good one. If the show did go there, it would be more interesting than putting Buck and Lucy together for sure. It would also be an indirect nod to Buddie, 'coz this is actually something that was quite a common trope in the history of literature for many centuries during which same sex relationships couldn't be explicitly explored. Can't be with your same sex love? Be with someone of the opposite sex who reflects your love as closely as possible. I can date this back to at least 1800 years ago, in rabbinical writing (in the Talmud), when they describe Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish meeting once again, childhood friends who had been torn apart, and now Reish Lakish sees Rabbi Yochanan bathing in the Jordan River and so he jumps right in. They can't be together, so Rabbi Yochanan offers his sister in marriage to Reish Lakish. His selling point? That his sister looks just like him. And Reish Lakish accepts without even having seen her.

They spend the rest of their lives studying the torah together, being known as the two greatest rabbis of their generation and completing each other's rabbinical capacities. When Roman soldiers want to arrest one of them in the middle of the night, they go to the other's house 'coz that's where they know they'd find him. In the middle of the night. And then when the two have a falling out, Reish Lakish is so heartbroken over it, he becomes ill and dies. Rabbi Yochanan's sister, the widow, she's in mourning, but she's not driven mad with sorrow. You know who is? Rabbi Yochanan upon hearing the news. He goes crazy, tearing his clothes off and screaming repeatedly, "Where are you, son of Lakish?" When the rabbis can't see him suffering anymore, they pray for him to be delivered, and he passes away. That's right, these two died of a broken heart over each other. I don't think you can get much gayer than that in the 2nd century Land of Israel.

And it starts by letting us know Rabbi Yochanan's sister is a stand in for the rabbi himself.

This is just an example, I could give more, but I hope I managed to demonstrate that this is actually a trope that has been used for subtextually writing same sex couples for millennia, and if the "female Buck" gets together with Eddie, even for two seconds, my queer, meta-inclined brain will actually stop functioning.

Will they do it? I honestly don't know. They'll have to do something to progress Buck and Eddie's romantic journeys, and they once more have both of them being single at the same time, just like in s3. They also have Madney to bring back together. I would think that if 911 is geared towards making Buddie canon, that won't progress before the Madney reunion. I'd say they can't keep both Buck and Eddie single and uninvolved with anyone for an entire season, but the show has done that in s3, and back then, they were the only romantically available characters on the show. So if the show wanted to, it could do it again. I'm not sure it does want to. But then, I do think that any involvement between Lucy and Eddie would bring us back to the kiss she shared with Buck. I don't think 911 is the kind of show that would endanger the Buddie r/s (whether romantic or as a friendship) for the sake of a love interest, they're clearly as invested in the Buddifer family unit as we are, so that's maybe the biggest reason why, if I absolutely had to take a guess, I'd be more inclined to think Lucy wouldn't be paired up with Eddie.

I hope this answer helps? I really do! Please don't hesitate to let me know. And thank you for the well wishes, I'm doing my best to deal! Sending LOADS of hugs and love your way! xoxox

If you're looking for my other replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 11 for the fanfic ask game!! Totally cool to pick and choose the ones you wanna answer lol

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

Ooof. I have plot bunnies that have been hopping around for like 20 years, I swear. But one that I actually started writing but just never did anything with was an ACD Canon Holmes/Watson story about Watson being blackmailed by Milverton. I think I wrote about 2k words of that before getting distracted by something else. That's also the answer to why I haven't written a lot of my bunnies, because I get distracted by other ideas.

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing

No, I just put the same song on repeat and write to the beat. While I've been writing this week, I've been playing Belinda Carlisle's Heaven Is A Place On Earth.

7. tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

Oh my god, it was this, from fucking 2008. I probably have followers younger than this fic. Zero plot. Just two characters fucking.

8. what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

If it's from my betas, I happily accept it. If it's some random person going 'Hey, I didn't like XYZ.' I ignore it. If it's someone going 'This sucks/I hate this/Fuck you.' I get really pissed off.

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

Titles either come to me immediately when I'm plotting out the story, or as soon as I'm done. There's very little in between. The one fic that gave me the worst time with regards to a title was probably Whisper. I am SO proud of this story, but the title almost did me in. I actually put off posting it for like three days because I didn't know what to call the damn thing, and that was linked to the fact that until the point of the climax I still didn't know what I was going to call the Big Bad since they don't actually appear until then.

On the other hand, the ColdFlash series I'm currently working on, I had the first story titled after about 1k words, and that made titling the rest of the series that I've plotted out easy, because they'll all be along the same punny theme.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

My research is usually divided into two groups: Fact checking with the canon source material, for things like 'Wait, what's the height difference between these characters again?' (Three inches) 'Did Jason wear the weird muzzle mask thing while this story was taking place?' (Yes.) 'What would Eddie order right now?' (Chicken dan dan noodles and a steak for Vee) OR excruciatingly exact technical details that almost no one ever pays much attention to but if I don't make sure I get it perfectly correct I will want to tear my hair out, like 'How long would it take for these characters to walk from point A to point B?' (Roughly 4.5 hours, weather permitting, and trust me I have tried to find details about the weather on specific Roman feast days in early Roman occupied south Britain. No such luck.) When I was writing Holmes pastiche, I did a lot of research on late Victorian post boy and bath house scandals.

The neatest thing I've learned recently was probably the different 'mancies. Like Necromancy, Tyromancy, and so on. All so I could make a gag about a cheese and onion tart. Which I'm pretty sure only I and maybe three other people thought was funny.

[hunkydorkling]

Right, so I was watching Billy and Marty's Planet Comicon Panel, yeah. Person comes to the mic and asks who Terry Silver will bring with him once he appears, and is it Mike Barnes?

And so Billy humorously (and Obviously) evades the answer with a cheeky and warm grin, and a very professional response...

... until Marty chimes in his.

So naturally, my thoughts enter a chain:

1. "Wait, what did he say?"

2. "Ah, ten commandments." *sees Billy laugh* "Oh it must be a Christian thing, right?? That's adorable. He's adorable. Totally not thinking about that one sliver of the fandom that's absolutely feral over his cross necklace."

3. Billy chuckling PRECIOUSSSS ~Christian~ man.

4. TEN COMMANDMENTS, BUT BIGGER.

5. Marty: "It's like Cobra Kai and Ben Hur together."

At this point, I was like, okay... surely picking up crumbs. In that quest for crumb-feeding, I did a little bit of digging around about Ben-Hur and found a couple of insights that might interest everyone's pants off. It's a little long-winded, but give it a go under the cut.

ABOUT THE MOVIE (poorly summarized)

Ben Hur is about a young Jewish prince Judah Ben Hur who meets his boyhood friend Messala, who is now a Roman tribune looking to take great over control over Jerusalem. They relive the old times, and through it, Messala offers Ben Hur the opportunity to help him colonize Jerusalem, to which Ben Hur declines. The growing tension ensues when Ben Hur was accused of killing someone, leading to his imprisonment along with his family. This happened during the time of Jesus, whom Ben Hur meets. Seems fitting for Marty's joke, isn't it?

HOWEVER

After some more digging, a few articles surfaced about that specific bath house reunion scene of Messala and Ben Hur.

Eager, I went ahead and pulled up any possible visual. Thank heck for Movie Clips, right.

Awwww maaaaan but anyway, some valuable parallels I've picked up are:

1. There is "rebellion in the wind" because Messala's thinking of taking over Jerusalem. That would be the rebellion of the MD and EF kids against the CK dojo. Cool.

2. Messala left Jerusalem to travel the world and eventually grew up in Rome. Sounds like a Terry thing to me and the whole entrepreneurial pursuit to become the #1 toxic garbage truck in the whole of USA before Kreese came back to him.

3. "It was fate that chose us to civilize the world" UH-HUH... well, you know what I mean.

4. Regarding the fate situation, Messala seemed to be so passionate about reconnecting. Given that it must've been only 10-15+ years since Terry and Kreese met up again after the war, but another 15 could've easily given them more wiggle room to tell all the goss. The enthusiasm won't wane, I bet.

5. Messala talks so highly about Ben Hur. Terry to Kreese, too. Seems a little too overwhelming for some come to think of it.

6. There's a way to Messala's convincing technique that plants its way to Ben Hur's conscience. Had Ben Hur taken it, it would have added way more work to his probable damage control. But Kreese isn't like that. They both share bloodlust. There's something bound to go wrong in which Kreese would take damage control to his own hands without/because of Terry Silver. Maybe.

And while we're on the spectrum of damage control, here's a scene where Messala condemns Ben Hur after he's been maliciously accused of killing someone. He finds his way out of the prison he was in and comes after Messala:

Lots of things run through my mind, but ultimately the question I ended up picking is: what if there was something personal that factored in for Kreese into this karate war, like his family? (If any. Pretty sure Kreese made it clear that he's got no one else on his side.)

And Terry Silver being the Sugar Daddy to this Sugar Baby ends up retracting his Love Bomb and takes everything back after finding out the clusterfuck of things Cobra Kai has gone through? It's definitely his messy business now.

Would Kreese eventually (albeit slowly and painfully) turn a new leaf and side with the two karate dads AGAINST Terry Silver this time?

And I still don't know what agenda Marty had when he mentioned the two titles together, but it's your fault, you old man! Now I won't be able to stop thinking about it. I haven't even started on the Raiders of the Lost Ark x Ghostbusters parallel Billy made because whatever!

But since we're at the topic of slipping in gay context into aged media, here are some notable paragraphs from this article that's well worth the read:

So yeah. It's another day of twisting actor comments into yet another insinuation that makes me extra excited for Season 4.

[storyshark2005]

Ohhh I am so intrigued by Triangles, can you tell us a little more about that one? ♡

hahaha yes! I laugh because the initial idea was so funny. So Smallville Season 6 has this hilarious marketing campaign centered around love triangles, with the tagline, "every triangle has three sides""

Which, of course they were thinking 'three sides, three people' BUT I was like... well 'three sides' means 'three relationships' and in each triangle you are forgetting to pair Clark up with some dishy male. So once again the CW is either purposefully or thoughtlessly teasing us with what the 'female gaze' wants to see! *cough*CLEX*cough*WINCEST*cough*DESTIEL*cough* !! Anyway. So that's the title "Triangles". Other than that I've just always wanted to see more Lex/Lois interaction because I think there's be SO MUCH SASS -- DIRECT CANON EVIDENCE HERE

LOOK HOW HOT THEY ARE! Photoshop, yes. Hot, also yes.

Anyway, it's almost done, here's a snippet, and I'll tag you when it's up!! Thank you for the ask @allthatsentimentalcandyfloss ❤️

------------------- EXCERPT from Lois/Clark/Lex fic, "Triangles" (a Lex/Lois scene) 🧖🏻‍♀️👨🏻‍🦲🛁:

Lois Lane is wandering around the penthouse in nothing but Lex’s shirt, and while this titillating prospect might have been intriguing at 9am this morning, now it only served as shocking proof of Lex’s profound stupidity.

Well Lex wasn’t stupid, but he’d clearly made a few bad judgement calls.

Mistakes had been made.

Conner was going to kill him. Well Clark was going to kill him, and then Conner would get that disgustingly familiar look of disappointment on his face that always reminded Lex of being alone in an empty mansion at twenty-one years old.

Lex closes his eyes and waits for the sound of 200 pounds of angry Kryptonian shattering inch-thick glass.

“OH MY GOD,” Lois gasps from somewhere not nearly far enough away. “This BATHROOM!”

Lex slings an arm over his eyes and thinks O happy dagger!

“I’M TAKING A BATH IN YOUR MASSIVE FUCKING TUB!” Lois yells, and the faucets thunder on.

“Have you ever heard of the death of Heracles?”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU, COME IN HERE!”

He does, for incomprehensible reasons, slouching on the doorframe in a way he knows makes his abdomen and hips look good. Lois is tip-toeing gingerly into the water, hands braced on the smooth marble lip.

“Heracles--”

“Don’t you mean Hercules?”

“Hercules is the Roman derivation. The original myth is Greek.”

“You’re such a fucking nerd.” Lois snorts, which should be entirely unattractive.

“Heracles was traveling through Aetolia with his third wife, Deianira. When they came to the River Evenus, they met the centaur Nessus, and he agreed to help ferry the couple across the river. Deianira climbed upon the back of the centaur, who carried her across the river. On the way Nessus tried to rape her--”

“Great story.”

“With Heracles still on the far bank, Nessus tried to kidnap Deianira. Heracles took aim with his bow and arrow, and shot the centaur with an arrow dipped in the poisonous blood of the Hydra monster. Nessus knew he was dying, and with his last breaths, convinced Deianira that his blood stained cloak was a powerful love token. That if she was ever in doubt of her husband’s blood, she could merely drape him in the cloak, and he would be forever hers.”

Lois finds the bath salts, and the room steams with the smell of eucalyptus. The low light makes her skin look bronze, shimmering wet curves. He flips a switch on the wall to start the heated floor tiles.

“So this horse man tries to rape her, and she takes his dating advice?” she wipes her hands down her face. Her mascara runs just enough to look like ink. She looks like Cleopatra, strong and fearless, frighteningly beautiful.

“Years pass,” he ignores her. “Heracles returns home from war with a young princess named Iole. Deianira fears for her husband's affections, and then remembers the Tunic of Nessus tucked away years before. She gives the tunic to one of Heracles’ commanders, tells him to give it to her husband so he might return home in a new shirt.”

“I don’t suppose you have shampoo?” She blinks water out of her eyes, cheeks pink with heat, lips a deep blood rose. He points to an alcove on the wall with a sliding door, and she swims over and says jackpot! and starts picking out bottles.

“When Heracles donned the tunic, the poison of the Hydra began to burn his skin and flay it from his bones.”

“That’s disgusting--” she pours one of the shampoos into her hands. It was brand new, he hadn’t had anyone over in months. Her nose wrinkles, and it shouldn’t be at all cute.

“Heracles knew he was dying, and so, wracked with unbearable pain, he climbed to the top of Mount Oeta and built his own funeral pyre. When it was done, weak and still wrapped in the poison cloak, he laid down and asked his men to light it. But no one would, loathe to see their greatest hero die by their own hand. Finally Zeus took pity on him, and sent down a bolt of lightning to ignite the pyre. His mortal body died, but his soul rose to Olympus to become a new god of the Pantheon.”

Lois laughs into her hands, soapy with shampoo. “So you want me to soak your fancy California King in gasoline so you can lay down and burn yourself alive?”

Lex sighs loud enough for Zeus to hear, but no lightning bolt comes down for him. Pity. “I’d considered it.

“Come here.”

“Why.”

“You’re dirty.”

“I’ll take a shower.”

She pulls her elbows up on the lipped edge, water sluicing down her body. The damp air is hot and heavy, a camphorous burn in his nostrils. She presses her tongue to the edge of her teeth.

“Le-ex,” she draws out the hiss in his name, and crooks her finger come-hither. “Come here.”

To his everlasting shame he does, tugged on a string by the hand of a beautiful woman.

He’s always been weak.

[stardancerluv]

Early Days with Roman

Part 4

Summary: You and Roman, still struggle being a couple. It’s hard for reader. Roman used to be Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, he had his fair share of beautiful exes. Many of whom, he was never loyal to. So reader worries.

Arthor’s Note: This takes place in between the chapters and will go beyond Creative Fervor. This is Roman and Reader from Creative Fervor trying to figure out what they want from each other. These are darker then the fics that came after or before. Roman is still his very dark, sometimes voilent character while Reader accepts and pledges herself to him. Sometimes, he tests her not believing someone like her could truly love him. Songs used- Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar, I Want To Know What Love Is by Foreigner & Embracable You by Frank Sinatra

Part One, Two, Three

After, a long hot bath and stretching you slipped on some comfy shorts and a shirt. Tying your hair in a messy ponytail you headed down to your studio. Sitting, down on your chair you eyed the blank canvas.

Hearing, a soft thud you knew that the society papers were delivered. You left the news for Roman to tell you, so all you had to do was focus on the world you created pieces for.

Putting, your pen down you went and got the papers. Sliding open the big heavy door wind swirled about you. You shivered. It had been a pretty mild autumn, but as Thanksgiving was approaching, the cold was finally sinking its teeth in.

Pulling, the rubber bands off you opened the papers and gasped. Roman, was once again splashed across the front pages. He was with his ex who had been his equal. She was the one had stolen his heart. Looking at the photos you wondered if those had been from the gala he had attended last summer. It was the one time, he said you couldn’t attend an event with him. He looked so happy, had a huge smile across his face. Perhaps, they had made up and were seeing each other again. His distrust of women, blossomed because of her. Why, would he even do that? Your worry began to eat at you.

Sliding and locking the door, you scruntized the photos. The ones of the two of you were new. How had the reporter managed to capture a hidden kisses, hidden smiles. You were disgusted. You were angry.

Fuck, all of this you muttered to yourself and threw the papers to the side. You went over your easel to try and work. You couldn’t too many things were rumbling over in your head.

Sighing you reached over and grabbing the remote to your mp3 and pushed play. Soon a steady beat began to play. You hoped it could distract you. You needed to not think about any of this.

First your feet began to tap then you began to feel the music. In the end, you surrendered to it.

We are strong

No one can tell us we're wrong

Searching our hearts for so long

Both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield

Before you knew what was happening, you were dancing all around the room. Your hips swished, you twisted and turned. Horribly off key you singing all into the marker you held onto.

You were feeling exhilarated. Your feeling from before were beginning to fade away. Grabbing, your remote once more you turned up your music and began dancing even harder and signing even louder

I wanna know what love is, I want you to show me

I wanna feel what love is, I know you can show me, oh

I'm gonna take a little time, a little time to look around me

I've got nowhere left to hide, it looks like love has finally found me

******

Roman, had finished with rehearsals.

Circe, had stopped by. She was eager to tell him to show him how the press printed the photos of him and her from the gala last summer. He could careless.

She tried to remind him of how happy they had been. Leaning, on his desk he reminded her how she cheated on him. He also reminded her how they, how he hammer it up for the press. How she was a tool to him to look good in the world pf Gotham for his nightclub. And how in the end he only went to gala, because of his previous obiligation to the event.

Walking away from her and happy that he had no meetings till that evening; he took a car and headed over to your place. Seeing, Circe had left a lingering bad taste in his mouth like always.

As he drove over, he wished you would finally move your studio to the penthouse, but as of yet you had not. Why, wouldn’t listen to him was beyond him. He knew what was best for you. Right now, he could have simply headed upstairs to see you. But now, he had to drive.

He knocked on the door, he knocked again. He knew you were there since your car was. Smiling and hearing your music he went over to wear the spare key was. Letting, himself inside, he locked the door behind him.

Your music greeted him as he walked in. Your taste in music, made him smile. It was different and he found it interesting that it helped him find out more of about you.

He never found anyone as interesting as you. You were fascinating.

Eyeing you, he watched as you sang and danced. Sure you were far from being on key but you were incredibly lovely like this. Your hair was messy and wild, the cute little outfit showed off all your curves. You were everything that was different from Circe, you had grace and real beauty.

Watching you move he smirked. You were his you belonged to him. A certain sense of pride, filled him as he mused. Grabbing, the remote and looking over at the player, he knew exactly, what song he wanted to play next. He tossed the remote to the coffee table, as it began to play. Leaning, against your sofa, he waited for you discover that he was there.

Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you

Embrace me, you irreplaceable you

“Roman!” Your voice rang out and over the music. He had been turning, off his phone when you discovered him. Turning, he smiled at you and put his phone down on the coffee table before he continued to lean.

Just one look at you

My heart grew tipsy in me

You and you alone

Bring out the gypsy in me

You went over to him. Your cheeks were rosy. He smiled down at you. “Hi baby.”

“You scared me.” You crossed your arms in front of yourself.

“Baby, look you’re my girl. No one would dare touch you.”

You rolled yours. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

Roman rose his eyebrows and nodded.

“Well, after all you were the only who’s ever attempted and succeeded in kidnapping me.”

I love all the many charms about you

Above all, I want these arms about you

Despite, the sweet lyrics that he actually felt, his smile dropped. “That’s a low blow, and that was Zsasz, fucking up not me.” He countered.

“Well, its not as if it’s not true. It did happen.”

Your eyes were a lit, he could see the anger. Behind them something lurked, was that pain, he wondered. He grabbed you and shook you. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I saw the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Of you and Circe. You two seemed to get on again.”

He rolled his eyes, he had already forgotten about the papers. “Those were the press’s benefit.”

“I am so sure, you looked happier in the photos with her then with me.” You huffed.

“Show me.”

“Fine.” You practically stomped over to where you had thrown the papers. “Here.” You practically threw them at him. That didn’t make him happy.

Catching them, he looked them over. “Yeah?” He looked over at you.

“Well, look at you two.”

“I did.”

“You belong, together. She is a much better compliment to who you are.”

Hearing, your words annoyed him. He was in no mood discuss this matter. He was going to take matters into his own hands.

Picking you up and put you over his shoulder. “Let me go.” You wiggled.

“Stop wiggling.” He smacked your ass, the sound bounced off the concrete walls.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r @hollywood2k16