anabdaniels

[anabdaniels]

Can we talk about why Pedro Pascal is actually truly fucking hot?

Like yeah, he's objectively attractive. He's funny. He's a fantastic fucking actor. He's unproblematic. He loves his family.

But what really makes him truly fucking attractive is his advocacy for human rights, trans rights, womxns rights, LGBTQ+ rights, climate change, black rights.

That's what makes him fucking hot.

[anabdaniels]

I love how this made ramble between want to hug and slap Jack. Love this country dumbass so much🤣💖.

Part (2/6): That Was The Worst Christmas Ever

Series Index

Part 3

Chapter warnings: Toxic family situations, mentions of drug use, death of partner and child, mentions of unwanted sexual advance (nothing too graphic), canon typical violence, discussions of queerness and coming out, panic attacks

Jack was working himself into a real temper. He had awakened at first light cozy and well-rested, an arm banded around Marley keeping her curled into his side, his face pressing into her hair. He had laid several lazy kisses to her temple before registering the sheer magnitude of his actions. He’s an agent. He wasn’t here to lollygag with some woman. He was supposed to be investigating possible treason within their ranks. And he could NOT be cuddling up with the target’s niece. Within a few hours, she had unravelled him— made him lose control— and distracted him. He was supposed to be alert, and here he was curling around her form when she so much as quivered. Despite years of training, he was unable to extricate herself from bed, from her.

His body felt entirely foreign to him, so unaccustomed to the feelings that coursed through his limbs. Contentment? There was also something bittersweet curling in his gut that reeked suspiciously of nostalgia. As Jack cradled the curve of Marley’s leg she had swung over both of his, feeling its weight, the shape of the muscle, the strength of the bone, he recognised the elusive feeling of home engulfing him— like a warm blanket straight out of a dryer. It was this thought that got him out of bed, his body protested at the rude treatment of exposing it to the morning chill. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve home and he most certainly didn’t deserve Marley.

It still stung, the way she could sleep so peacefully even without him in bed— seemingly unaffected by him when he was so affected by her. An agent would get back in bed with her, coax her awake with kisses and false promises, then sweet-talk her into keeping his tryst in the barn a secret. Agent Whiskey would gauge if she noticed her uncle acting odd or out of character recently. But Jack couldn’t even bring himself to shake her awake. It was only because her eyes were still puffy with fatigue and lined with dark circles. Frustratingly, he could not return alone to the mansion. It would be easier to corner her here, in this cabin, than back there with all the guests. So he was left there, in the ugly, yellowed armchair, watching her sleep.

How could she look so adorable sitting up in a daze, still partly in dreamland, when she had wreaked havoc over his mind? How dare she look confused at the sight of him when he was so enraptured by even the steady rise and fall of her breath? How could she smile so sweetly up at him, when Jack was simply furious? He didn’t want her so mellow and amiable when he felt raw.

“Merry—”

“You drugged me.” Jack wouldn’t let her exchange pleasantries, they were way past that. This was no merry Christmas, he was losing his touch.

Marley’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked around the room still gathering her bearings. Whatever satisfaction he thought he would glean from riling her up died a very quick death when she reached for the blanket at her waist and pulled it to cover her shoulders— shielding herself from him.

“Um”—the noise came out more as a croak, she reached for the water on the bedside table, pausing to drink before looking back at Jack—“I’m sorry. I didn't know they were pot brownies but I should’ve been more careful.”

The apology snatched the wind out of his sails, it wasn't the reaction he was hoping for. Marley wouldn’t meet his eye, looking at the armrest of his chair while addressing him or looking down at her lap, smoothing over imagined wrinkles on the covers. He realised he missed her, the soft, pliant Marley from last night who looked up at him with trusting, twinkly eyes.

Of course, he knew she was blameless. So he had expected her to scoff at his accusation, argue with him and then leave in a self-righteous huff. He'd follow her back to the main house to ensure she spoke to nobody, and that she actually got home safe instead of meandering about the estate, knee-deep in snow.

“What did you think you would achieve, huh? You fixin’ to land yourself a rich man to compete with the one your cousin is marryin’?” She looked at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed as if she were concerned he was losing his mind. He felt crazy too.

“Ah, my apologies, sweetheart.”—He stood with a hand placed mockingly over his heart, walking closer to the bed until she was looking up at him through her lashes—“ You’re shittin’ in high cotton with your granddaddy’s money.”

Jack grew meaner with every word, his tone progressively more scornful, lips curled into a sneer, a cold look in his eyes, “Reckon’ you just can't help hankering for whatever your cousin has, huh? Even if it’s men?”

His words landed like a physical blow, she whipped her gaze away from him to stare out of the window into the dreamy Winterland. Jack watched her face darken, lips pursed, jaw clenched, nose flared and her eyes ablaze with fury. Yes, that’s it.

“Well, there’s a reason I was in the barn with her and not you.” Twist the knife.

But then he watched her struggle to swallow as if a stone was lodged in her throat, and her eyes dulled, not into a cold look that mirrored his, but into a soulless gaze that focused right past him.

“You do not know me enough to cast aspersions on my character, Mr Daniels. I apologise for interrupting your plans last night with my affianced cousin. Rest assured, that I will not be imposing myself on your time or wealth.” Aspersions? Affianced? Imposing myself? Damn it, Marley. Who talks like that? Get angry, rage, fight.

She turned away from him again, a proud tilt to her chin, and he had been summarily dismissed. Jack had never felt more unseen, or lowlier, or scummier. Fuck. Well, he supposed he had asked for it. But, not like this— not with her hurt. She should be angry, yell at him, slap him; and get the anger out of her system so she can move on from him.

Last night, something had changed. They had both been disconnected from the world, encased in a bud, and come morning, that bud had put forth tender shoots that pierced both of them— holding them together. And the connection needed to be severed.

They had to go back to the polite distance and disregard of last evening’s supper. It was for the best. She should have no misconceptions about last night, it was just a freak accident, drugs and Christmas hormones coming together to make a soup of feelings that was impermanent. She had to realise that. Jack knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of her when she fluffed her pillow and lay down again as if he wasn't even in the room.

“You are far more trouble than you’re worth.” His sentence had been no less cutting even when the door slammed behind him before the last word was out.

Marley stared at where he had been standing long past Jack had pitched a hissy fit and stormed out. That stupid, pretentious, distressingly hateful man. Fucking prick. Asshat. Very, very ugly toad. She tried not to let his words smart, after all the man had known her for less than twelve hours. He was just goading her, and she hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.

Jack had arrived last evening for supper as a special guest of Uncle Mattew, they worked together at Statesman Distillery— Uncle Matthew had beamingly introduced him as his protégé. Marley hadn’t liked him at first sight, she thought him too duplicitous and disingenuous. Sure, he had impeccable manners, was unfailingly polite— even with the staff— and he had managed to charm everyone from Grandma Marge to her little nieces and nephews before they were sat at the dinner table. But she couldn’t trust anyone who had such natural and effortless dining and table etiquette. Especially because it hadn’t even been the simple ‘start on the outside and work your way in’ dining layout, Livvy’s mother, and Marley’s dear aunt, could be quite uppity so there were no less than twenty-three utensils per person.

Somewhere after the fish course and before the entrée, Jack had turned to flirt with Livvy. Marley had brought up the wedding preparation, much to Livvy’s chagrin, hoping he would take the message. Unfortunately, her opinion of him plummeted when he uncaringly went back to flirting. She wasn’t jealous or anything, his flirting was lame anyway. His demeanour was jovial, his mien charming, he had the air of a man unaccustomed to rejection, and it had all rang hollow to Marley. His bearing betrayed a strain, his laugh was evasive and sometimes, under the right light, his soulful eyes looked tired.

And then, then, he had wormed his way into her good graces— it was the stupidest thing, really. She had stopped at the barn to pet some horses on the way to the cabin and had found him making out with Livvy. He had been reposed over the hay with all the flair of an embalmed body waiting to be lowered into its grave, hands held above his abdomen, face turned to give her more access to his neck. She had been grinning ear to ear at the sight even when she had been screaming at Livvy. It wasn't the picture of a passionate affair she had expected, not that she had expected anything in the barn— in front of her favourite horse no less. The rest of the night was reminiscent of a cozy, feel-good Christmas movie, a pompous, insincere CEO is torn away from the bustling city of New York to a slower-paced life and revealed to have a heart after all. Marley thought he was charming, funny, protective, and kind.

So, if he really wanted to play the contemptuous cunt this morning, he should have committed to the bit. She always struggled with staying hydrated, the glass of water on the bedside table waiting for her could've only been him. Despite saying mean, hurtful things to her, he had placed his jacket on the armchair for her before walking out into the crisp Christmas morning.

And what a beautiful morning it was with all the ingredients for a perfect white Christmas— clear, blue skies and glimmering, soft snow enshrouding the land. The storm last night left behind a peaceful and stagnant landscape, not even the trees sway. There was smoke rising in the distance, surely, from the main house. Where Cole and Livvy awaited a confrontation, dear god.

It was the worst Christmas, Jack thought. He was always on a mission every Christmas because megalomaniacs never paused their plans of world domination for some holiday cheer. And he'd seen some pretty gnarly ones, but this was, by far, the worst Christmas. Somebody had been in his room, in his absence, lighting the fire in the fireplace that fruitlessly crackled. No part of him felt warm, his bones were tense, retaining the cold that had soaked into them. The festive shrub of seasonal greens that decorated the window pane was mocking him as he stared past it into the clear grounds below. There was only one set of tracks in the snow, the one he had made on his way back to the mansion. Where was she?

Jack sincerely hoped she wasn't one of those stubborn women with no sense of self-preservation. So that she would choose to actually wear the jacket he had left for her instead of shredding it to bits in a fit of anger. He’ll even let her stomp all over the expensive leather if she just came back.

He huffed with relief when he saw her slogging through the field, snuggly buttoned into his jacket, pausing to kick at his tracks— sending a shower of flakes into the air. Jack felt his lips quirk up at her display of petulant anger until he remembered she was angry at him. Only after she disappeared into the gates of the house, did he break his vigil at the window, hoping that a shower would warm him up and wash away that caustic lump in his chest.

Jack prowled down the stairs in the hunt for some breakfast, hoping he would be able to scour some food without interacting with his hosts. He sighed in defeat, there was no such luck. Raised voices rang from the dining room. He felt irrationally angry at Marley, she just returned, why wouldn’t she at least try to warm up, or have breakfast before buckling into drama? She stood just by the entrance of the room, dressed as he had previously seen her, she hadn’t even unbuttoned her jacket. She still had that stubbornly proud tilt to her chin, as she faced down a room full of people who accusingly glared at her.

“Can’t you just be a good sister to our Livvy, FOR ONCE? After everything we have done for you?” Her aunt demanded. And Jack felt heat rising past his ears until his scalp tingled, he didn’t believe he could get a single word past his clenched teeth. How dare she say that to Marley? He drew himself up to full height, falling in line behind Marley, showing the support he wasn’t quite able to verbalise yet. He needed to reign in his fury, so he couldn’t look down at her just yet. He wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of how those words had affected her.

“Well, Jack?” Gin’s curious voice cut through the tension. He felt his stomach drop, sweat broke out against his back. And Jack made the worst mistake— he looked down. His surroundings blurred until all he could see were her wide, beseeching eyes. He had to go through all of the mental exercises he had been taught at Statesman to not blurt out the truth. But he took too long, and her lips wobbled. And he was back to square one— tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth, stone lodged in his throat— he felt lightheaded. Maybe he should just drop down to avoid the situation; he wouldn’t even need to fake a swoon.

“Jack, son?” He looked up to meet Matthew’s eyes. Gin, a possible traitor, his mentor and father figure. Jack felt, for the first time since he had arrived at this estate, that no matter how today would end, he was going to lose something.

“I was four sheets to the wind… I’m not sure who it was. All I remember was that she was blonde.”

Jack couldn’t raise his head, not even when Marley shouldered past him. She had barely touched him but he felt like a crater had crashed into him. Not even several deep breaths lightened that weight.

He finally turned to the breakfast service bolstering himself for what needed to be done as the family returned to their seats. It was a spread that would put a Michelin-star restaurant to shame, too bad he wouldn’t be able to stomach any of it. He heaped two plates of food with a bit of everything, eggs were made to order by their chef— he requested them made according to Marley’s preferences. Blondie sidled up to him, placing a steaming mug of coffee on his tray. No, thank you.

“It’s how Marley takes her coffee, you will need it if you want to apologise.” Jack didn’t remove the mug.

“Well played, by the way. Very artfully chosen words you imparted there. She never even mentioned you, ya know? Didn’t accuse you of anything.” This time Jack did turn to look at her.

“She only told Cole that I made out with someone. And in typical Cole fashion, he made it everybody’s problem. I’m her sister, but she covered for you. So I told everyone how you were with her last night, you simply must have seen what she saw. Just to see if she kept covering for you or told the whole truth… But you came just in time. Made her into a liar and covered for me!” Blondie finished with a giggle, she was enjoying this far too much. Jack felt the gnawing pit of despair widen in his stomach.

“It’s for the best. She deserves better than a man like you.” Jack was astounded for a moment, Blondie seemed like the very devil echoing his worst insecurities back at him.

“A coward. A man who fingers a girl in a barn, and then sleeps with her cousin after,” He knew he wasn’t crazy, that it wasn’t just their reflection, but someone really had been at the cabin, “by the way, you were real shit at it. My cousin is sweet, but gullible. But I know men like you, narcissistic assholes who prey on nice girls like her. So apologise, and then fuck off from her life.” That— that was the plan, ma’am.

But Jack wasn’t about to let the pot call the kettle black, “Oh, excuse me, didn’t you steal her fiancé? And you didn’t even have the decency to break it to her privately.”

“Mind your own fucing business, bitch.” were Blondie’s parting words. Fair enough.

Jack found her in the sunroom, and his body forgot all its involuntary actions— like breathing or blinking. She looked resplendent sitting on the red plaid rug, the wreath hung on the window behind her framed her like a halo, all the sunlight in the room was pulled to her form setting her aglow. Her face was tipped up towards the windows, eyes closed, as she basked in the warmth. She looked so at peace that he hesitated from breaking the moment. Not that he could say anything when she opened her eyes to look at him. The light danced in her eyes. Her gaze fell on him like an ointment on every jagged, splintering fragment of him. And in just a moment, Jack dreamed of a lifetime’s worth of mornings and evenings looking into those same eyes. A dream so bright and hopeful, that he refused to be pulled from it. What wouldn’t he do to enshrine himself in those eyes? To have her look only at him?

“This room is occupied.”

“I was hoping to occupy it with you.” Jack held up the breakfast tray as a gesture of invitation. He joined her on the rug, taking her silence for acquiescence.

“I wanted to apologise. For what I said in the dining room, and for what I said in the cabin this morning”—he paused to hand her the coffee—“and for last night in the barn, of course. And for my rudeness at ignoring you at the dinner table last evening, too. Everything, really, I’m sorry for all of it.”

“I’m not obliged to forgive you, you know?” He handed her a mini quiche. Of course, he knew that. He didn’t even deserve to be forgiven.

“The stuff you said to me at the cabin wasn’t okay. You were intentionally trying to hurt me, not just saying stuff in blind anger.” Shame coursed through his veins and he found himself unable to meet her eyes. What made him think, even for a moment, that he could have her?

“I’m sorry, Sugar.” The term of endearment felt like a desperate attempt at consolation.

“And you made me look like an idiot at breakfast just now.”

“That too, I am sorry. And I know I don’t deserve it, but thank you for not telling everyone it was me with your cousin last night.” He watched her build a perfect forkful of toast, egg, and spiced veggie sausage. Was watching someone eat supposed to feel this delightful? Jack regretfully reached up to brush off a crumb from her cheek, wishing he could feed her. But that would be crossing a line— one he drew himself.

“No, it's okay. I know you didn’t mean to make me feel like a dumbass.”—She looked up at him like a cat that ate the canary, mischievous and pleased—“So, I’ll let you make it up to me by telling me exactly what brings a spy to our home?”

Even Jack could tell his answering chuckle rang far too fake, “What do you mean?”

“Come on now, no need to tell me all about your super secret society, although if you share, I will be all ears. Just tell me about your mission. Why did you come to the estate? Is Uncle Matthew in on it as well?” The breakfast tray looked immensely interesting, were those mini cheese grits casseroles? He polished one off to simply keep from having to talk, it tasted like dirt in his mouth.

“Whatever makes you think like that? Do you rich folks really have those secret societies I should know about?” Deny and Divert.

“Nope. But I know some about the secret society you’re in… Agent?” Jack wanted to kiss the smug look off her face.

“I ain’t nothing, darling.”

“Oh, so not senior enough to get an alcoholic name then?” Jack raised his eyebrows at her in part exasperation and part chastisement. Just how much did this girl know? And where had she learned about their codenames? Did Matthew tell her?

“What are you even on about?” He added an eye-roll for extra measure.

“Well, you were in the barn with Livvy—”

“That made you think I was a spy?”

“— Not only did you seem uninterested—”

“So a guy changed his mind, men can do that you know?”

“— and then how you acted in the cabin, about protecting me from intruders—”

“I was stoned, baby, it didn’t mean anything.”

Marley gave him an unimpressed look, but they both knew she didn’t have anything substantial on him that would stick. Jack hoped she would cease her questioning, he quite honestly didn’t believe he could lie to her.

“Something spooked you today, when you woke up, I mean. What was it?” Dear Lord, this was going to be her new line of questioning?

“You were an asshole to me about it, I deserve at least an explanation with the apology.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had weighed them, tested them in his head, “I have a complicated relationship with drug use.”

Her head shot up from her plate, eyes wide with concern, “Oh my God, Jack. Are you okay? Did you”—she looked around searching for something—“Were you attempting sobriety? Did last night cause… I don’t know, a relapse? Should we call someone? A therapist or something?”

Jack pulled her down before she could stand to go searching for a phone, he presumed, clasping her shoulders and pulling her closer, “It’s not like that—”

“Oh, sorry.”

“—it was my girlfriend.” She flinched at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that must have been very difficult.” She squirmed to relinquish his grip on her, trying to put some distance between them.

Jack tightened his hold, and the words he had never said unless absolutely necessary came pouring out of him, “No, well, yes. She died…”

Jack relaxed his hold on her when Marley brought her own hand over his. He let her turn it over and gently grasp it between her own, she ran her thumb gently over the stupid tattoo he got on the side of his thumb in high school.

“She was my high school sweetheart. One day... she went to get some groceries, and two meth heads decided to rob a fucking convenience store. Got caught in the crossfire.” He choked out the words through gritted teeth. Jack grieved, for so long, he went through every stage of it, countless times. He had accepted that she was gone, along with the little life in her belly— his son. But the anger, the rage, it still persisted. He was unreconciled.

Marley pulled him closer, wordlessly wrapping her hands around him and soothingly stroked along his back, because there were no words that touched deeper than surface for someone who had lost a loved one. He allowed himself to lean on her, folding his shoulders to fit into her arms and slumping onto her shoulder. He allowed her, for just a moment, to carry the weight of his body.

“She’d been pregnant with my little boy.” His voice betrayed the anguish he felt, causing her to hold him tighter. She carried the weight of his body and his still ravaged soul. Her hand came up to cradle his head. Jack felt the moisture of her tears on his neck, but despite the pain, he couldn't cry. He was all out of tears. He had shed them into his pillows, in the shower, in his uniform, and his shirts; he had shed them into anything that would get him drunk, he had shed them into the ground every time he bit the dust, he had shed them all on her grave. But it felt good to feel her cry for him, for his sorrow, when he could not.

Jack pulled her even closer, heaving her weight onto his lap until her legs came around him. As they sat there in each other’s embrace, under the morning light, Jack took the strength of her embrace and let it seep into his bones. Her comfort permeated down to his very marrow, it bolstered him— warmed him down to his toes. Jack felt himself melt when her fingers raked gentle circles at his nape, his own hand reaching up to press her head closer into the crook of his neck relishing the feel of her against him.

“It’s Whiskey, darling. Senior Agent Whiskey.” He murmured into her hair. She giggled into his skin, and his heart fluttered at the same rhythm. Marley brushed her lips against his jaw in another gesture of solace as she pulled away from him looking glassy eyes and entirely conspiratorial.

“My Uncle’s codename is Gin, I presume.” Jack hummed in response while he brushed off the residual wetness clinging to her lashes and cheeks.

“You weren't sure?”

“I’ve overheard people calling him that. So, what’s your mission, Agent Whiskey—”

“Now that's confidential.”

“—Is it because Cole is involved with some mafia people?”

“He’s involved with the mafia?” Jack was surprised, the boy didn't look like he had the gumption.

“Keeps talking about some Golden Circle and how he wants to go into business with them, Livvy’s dad, my uncle, wants that too. Hence, the wedding.”

“Never heard of it.”

Marley peered down at him, “Would you tell me if you had?”

Usually, the answer would've been a resounding no, “I would if it meant a threat to you.” She didn't look like she believed him, but that was okay.

“So what is your mission?”

Jack weighed his options with a tired sigh as he brought a piece of her unfinished toast to her lips. Ginger's Alpha Gel Tech hadn’t worked on that British guy in her glass loony bin. She was convinced the issue was in the materials. So he had taken up the mundane task of reading through the incoming inspection reports. While the quality of the raw materials was up to par, he had noticed far too many irregularities— delayed deliveries and unpredictable expenses.

Gin, and his surveillance agent Tonic, were in charge of sourcing and covertly acquiring their raw materials. He had started by investigating some of the lower-level agents, and even the workers they out-sourced to, before suspecting his mentors. It had been no easy task because Statesman ran on a need-to-know basis. They had all turned out squeaky clean with barely any minor infractions. For all it was worth, Gin ran a tight and clandestine ship which did not explain the aforementioned irregularities. He had investigated Tonic, by inviting himself over for a birthday party, and had come up with nothing.

“Let’s say, it’s an internal audit of sorts.” It was as nicely as he could put it.

“Internal audit? What do you mean to say? That you suspect my uncle is up to something?” Marley reached out her tongue to lick the last of the jam on her lips, looking wholly unserious about this conversation. And so was he, because Jack couldn't really think past the panic of his cock stiffening under her. As soon as she had drunk the last of her coffee, and his, he pulled her up by the hand and deftly made his way to Gin’s office.

There was a hubbub in the house as everyone scampered to complete the last-minute preparations for tonight’s Christmas Charity Gala. Hence, they reached undetected to the, thankfully, empty office. Jack gently pulled Marley’s frames from her face and set them on the desk, before reaching into his jacket, still slung over her shoulders, to remove his own pair of glasses. He placed them on her nose and pushed them up for her with clunky, single-handed movements. His other arm was still holding one of hers.

Holding her last night had felt divine, but he had chalked it up to the influence of drugs. But even now, Jack felt his heart was tied to a string that stretched down his own arm and straight into hers. He had curled his hand away from hers until only their fingers were interlocked to not only lessen the pull she had on him, but also because he worried her skin would catch on the many calluses and abrasions the lasso and whips left behind on his palm. Even then, his heart still soared like a kite that she tugged and released with every touch; the press of her fingertips, the clasp of her palm, the caress of her thumb. 

“Here”—Jack activated the frames so they could start their analysis for her—“What does it tell you.” He reluctantly pulled away from her, made quick work of the locked drawer and removed the surplus stationery to reveal the false bottom, underneath which laid a numerical keypad with tiny letters on each key— quite like the old phones with buttons you clicked multiple times to reach the correct letter. 

“OMG, these frames are the sickest. It's got all sorts of features, oh my god, it can take X-rays.” Jack guided her attention down to the keypad with a gentle pinch to her chin. 

Judging by her soft gasp, she had already read the analysis on the frames, but he explained anyway, “Your cousin’s fingerprints are all over the keypad. I heard her talking to that scumbag ex of yours before dinner last night about taking some money from the safe.” 

“She’s trying to steal from Uncle Matthew? Why would she do that?”—She met his gaze, a frown painted across her face and voice laced with disappointment—“Is that why you were in the barn with her? For the password.”

Jack looked away in shame, “Yeah,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I put a tracking and audio device in her so I can hear what she's up to and maybe hear what the passcode is.”

“Wait… IN her? What do you mean, in her?” Jack only sent her an annoyed glare, don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to.

“Fine, couldn’t you have hacked it? Like in the movies?” 

“Excellent question, see this isn't connected to anything, no wifi, Bluetooth or smart connection. It’s a manual lock that opens either with the password or if I take a hammer to it. And I wouldn't want to take a hammer to it.” Marley had already started jabbing at the keys before he had finished his explanation and the lock clicked open. 

She gave him a teasing smile, “It was Robin Hood, like the character from the 1973 Disney animated movie. We watched it a lot growing up with Uncle Matthew.” 

The lock, deceptively, didn't open to reveal anything but the painting behind the desk slid aside to reveal the safe, Marley punched in the code there as well with a decidedly roguish glint in her eye, 1217. Why did those numbers seem so familiar? It was the date he had circled on his own calendar as Tonic’s birthday that he had crashed to discretely investigate him.

“You should never enter passwords around kids, they'll even stare at the placement of your fingers to figure out what it is. Certainly helps that Uncle Matthew has never changed the password.” No, darling, that might just be you… and your cousin it seems. 

Jack shuffled around the cash, the tiny gold biscuits, and property files— uncaring of leaving a mess, it'll be blamed on Blondie anyways— until there was a single red switch staring at them, what were the chances it could blow stuff up? High, very high. But Jack pressed it anyway. A book on the shelf to their right came away with a snick.

“Jack, the X-Ray-Bans are telling me there's a room behind that shelf!” She did an odd, endearing little excited dance while pulling out the book which dislodged a keyboard that was disguised inside the shelf. It was a thin blue-lighted electronic keyboard on a black screen that looked like it came straight from an office at Statesman. Another password? Jack grasped her elbow with a gentle squeeze, halting her movements.

“Darling, you shouldn't ever do this.”—she turned to him with a raised eyebrow that communicated her confusion—“I mean, what if I wasn't Whiskey? What if I was somebody evil, or a rival, or just a bad actor who wanted to cause harm?”

“Are you? A bad actor who wants to cause harm?” Jack was troubled by the sweet, knowing smile she gave him, she didn't understand. Since last night, she has been nothing but open, honest and trusting. And that was dangerous, he could've been anybody.

“You’re the one who said agents get alcohol-based codenames. What if I just made one up on the fly? Then you let me into your uncle’s safe, what if I stole everything and then seriously hurt you? What if I was some guy on a mission to harm your uncle? Hell, I’m here to harm your uncle. My mission here is to find evidence that he’s involved in some plot.”

His mind was already running farther than his words as he conjured up every worst-case scenario. Every single one ended with her hurt, dying, trapped in that room behind the shelf, or all three. He brushed his hand further up her arm until he held her wrist, rubbing his thumb over the inside and feeling the soft skin textured by gently protruding veins. He found her pulse, steady and strong, against delicate, brittle bones. He was a trained and seasoned agent who had stared down certain death numerous times with level-headedness. But the very thought of anything happening to her compromised him. He hadn't even realised his breath was coming out in short, uneven pants, his heart racing with fear until her hand had come up to cup his face, calming and anchoring. 

“Had it been literally anybody else, I would've gone straight back from the barn and snitched. I most certainly wouldn't have stayed at the cabin with them,” Marley teasingly brushed the end of his mustache, “But it was you. And you know what I think? You're not here to find proof that Uncle Matthew is part of some evil plot, you're here to find proof that he's not.” 

His shoulders slumped, “You can't know that.” 

“Yes, I can.”—Jack missed her touch as she slipped away from his grasp to pick up the book once more—“It was something about the look in your eyes when he boasted about your achievements last night and called you his protégé. And then again this morning when he called you son.” She would've made a great spy with those instincts.

On the tail end of the panic, Jack had a moment of piercing clarity. As he stood there breathing relaxed and in tandem with her, soaking in the undeserved trust she granted him, he realised three very important facts. 

Marley felt something for him. 

He was in love with Marley.

And he was going to break both their hearts. 

He watched Marley attempt to thumb through the book only to discover it was a fake. The cover opened to reveal a screen covered in accented letters. 

She turned to look at him mouth agape with doubt, “A puzzle?”

She easily relinquished the book to him, but the glasses came off with a dejected pout. Maybe he'll accidentally leave this pair behind for her to find. Marley had lips perfectly sized for kissing; he briefly wondered what they would feel like against his. The thought summoned the memory of last night in the kitchen. He's going to have to kiss her today, properly, there's no way he could let her go unkissed.

He opened the book again to a different set of letters on the screen. Jack bit off a swear, he was about to look like the biggest idiot in front of this pretty girl. This system was hackable but not something he could pull off on his own, he needed Ginger. However, he was flying this mission solo. Champ hadn't exactly signed off on the investigation, so he wasn't technically allowed to do this. Jack looked to Marley, hoping she would know the passcode to this one too, but she just smiled apologetically. His lowest scores in Statesman evaluations had been in cryptography and cryptanalysis, he was so abysmal at it, that they would've thrown him out had he not excelled in other areas. 

Gin and Tonic, on the other hand, had a shared passion for cyphers and codes. Jack could lose them for hours once they got into their own little world with some new puzzle to solve. Unease slithered in his gut. He recognised these words, it was Diné Bizaad. Tonic was Native American, his father had served as a Navajo Code Talker during World War 2 and had been recruited by Statesman. Tonic had followed his father’s lead, having discovered his secret career. What were the odds that this cypher was just a simple gift? That Tonic would have gifted Gin a cypher in his own language without knowing how he would use it? Could Tonic have no idea what Gin was hiding? Jack didn't believe in such coincidences. 

Jack used the frames to start translating the text, it was a romantic story of two lovers tending to their garden— a vegetable patch to be precise. The story didn't end with a question or a riddle yet a text cursor was blinking back at him demanding an answer. He read through the story again. It was about a person drifting apart from a friend who seeks them out at a social gathering and confesses their love, the two lovers then spend their evening kissing on the freshly sowed land. Was that a metaphor for sex? It all felt rather intimate and nostalgic, has Tonic written these stories personally? A suspicion brewed at the back of his mind. 

“Is it very hard?” Jack was pulled from his contemplation by Marley. How long had she been looking at him like that? He couldn’t remember a time when someone had looked at him with such naked want and affection. He felt like he was in a Christmas movie, surrounded by love and quickly coming to the realisation that he wanted it for himself as well. Most importantly, he wanted it from her, the woman who was so different from him. He had spent over two decades using seduction and sex as a means to an end, a tool to accomplish a mission. And she was guileless, unapologetic and unable to cover her feelings. Jack felt humbled at her attention and utterly charmed. 

“No, it’s…” Jack met her gaze, and was beckoned to her twinkling eyes like a moth to a flame. He swooped down, heart galloping into his mouth and paused just before his lips touched hers— allowing her a moment to reconsider, to pull away. Electricity crackled where his lips ghosted over hers, Jack spotted a subtle curve of a smile on her lips before they slanted over his in a perfect moment of joy and completion. The kiss was warm, passionate but tentative and testing— a kiss between new lovers who were exploring how the other liked to be kissed. Grazing his teeth over her bottom lip just so caused her breath to hitch, the tip of her tongue running over his upper lip and catching the bristles of his mustache made him softly groan into her mouth. 

He relished her touch, which was anything but tentative and testing, it was possessive and confident as her hand slid across the breadth of his shoulder to toy with the hair at his nape. He finally copped a liberal feel of that plump ass that drove him crazy, using her gasp as an opportunity to chase her tongue deeper into her mouth— gentle and insistent. He pressed himself closer into her; sweet, round curves pressed against the hard exterior of his body. He let his hands roam over the swell of her hips, and under her t-shirt, exploring the contours of her belly pushing against his, the indentation of her waist and the weight of one gorgeous tit in his hand— her nipple growing into a hardened little bud against his palm. He rolled that nipple in his fingers and swallowed the high-pitched moan she released. Dear Lord, she was so beautifully responsive. 

But the sound had been too loud, he felt her stiffen in his arms as she became more aware of her surroundings. No, no. He clutched her tighter, unwilling to let go just yet. He couldn’t let her go just yet. The wanting hadn’t surprised Jack, she was comely, attractive even, delightfully filled out in places and maddeningly tempting. He would be an idiot to not want her. But the deluge of need that flooded from him shook him, terrified him, and made him feel so alive. 

“Marley,” He murmured against her lips, taking a moment to admire her upturned face, eyes closed in bliss and kiss-swollen mouth. He appreciated the taste of her morning coffee in his mouth mixed with the flavour of her own natural essence. When was the last time he had kissed someone because he wanted it? Hell, when was the last time he had done anything because he wanted it? He got enough action on missions to not even have to look for meaningless sex and hook-ups when he was off work. He had earned this, hadn’t he? This lovely moment of shared intimacy, need and love with the most delectable and enticing woman in his arms.

He kissed her once more, with the renewed urgency of a man who hadn’t kissed anybody for decades. Because this kiss, with this woman, was sublime. It wiped out the memory of any other kiss he might have had from his memory. All of his senses recalibrated to look for her every minute reaction to his touch. He sank deeper into her until all that held them both up was her uncle’s desk as he rocked his growing bulge against the most intimate part of her. 

Marley pulled him up with a fist in his hair, she looked at him glassy-eyed and open-mouthed. What would she look like when he slowly fed her every inch of his cock until he was buried to the hilt in her warm, wet cunt. The very thought of it threatened to send his eyes rolling back into his skull. She was mouthing words at him that he couldn’t hear. Was she as incapable of speech as he was? Or was he not able to hear her over the rush of blood in his ears? 

“The puzzle… The puzzle, Jack.” He huffed a laugh in disbelief. His Marley had a taste of adventure. If she was still thinking about the damn puzzle while they shared the most life-altering kiss then he hadn’t done it right. He would remedy that soon. Not anytime soon, though; his knees felt a little wobbly. Jack affectionately nuzzled her ear and pressed an adoring kiss to it. Then he laid several more kisses on her cheek, her neck, jaw, chin, nose, temple and forehear until she was giggling into the curve of his shoulder. He gave into the temptation and pressed his lips to her luscious, inviting lips just one last time… And once more. Just one more time.

“The answer is July, darling.” He whispered over her lips as he nuzzled her nose, giving it a playful puppyish nudge with his own before he pecked her lips— this really was the last one. He felt the tremble that went down her spine at his whispered endearment. 

Marley was still dazed after Jack had let her up and fixed both of their appearances— the sight of her so innocently muddled as he lowered her t-shirt to cover her again had given him a deep, primal satisfaction. Maybe, just maybe, he could make her happy. Perhaps, he wouldn’t break her heart. For a moment, he was seized by the most ridiculously sentimental emotion— hope. She had already discovered that he was a liar, that he lied to everyone, even Gin. She saw the disregard with which he treated her cousin, that one he still didn’t feel much guilt over. And Marley had bore the brunt of his angry words that he had never meant, would never mean. And somehow, still, she liked him. Kissed him. Sometimes, when he looked into her eyes for just a moment longer, he felt like anything was possible. 

Of course, there was so much she didn’t know about him. Jack knew he was wholly unworthy of her— Gin would know too. He didn’t even know what she saw in him, decency? Honour? He had long lost those traits. He had been ruthless, heartless, cold-blooded, deceitful, anything but decent and honourable. Sure, it helped that he upheld peace, and protected the weak and innocent. But it didn’t detract from the darkness that festered in him. One can’t be in the spy business this long without having developed a deeper sense of self-awareness and Jack knew he hid a cold, rotten core underneath that shiny veneer of charming cowboy, principled senior agent, dashing spy. 

So just until she discovered who he truly was, until she slipped past his defences— because he knew if anyone could, it was Marley— and saw him for who he truly was, he would soak up all her love, tenderness, affection and adoration. And he would return all she gave to him manyfold— he suspected he would even long after she stopped loving him and turned away from him in disgust. He helped her stand and kissed her brow one last time.

“How do you know?” She looked at the screen studiously. Jack handed her the pair of Stateman glasses again. 

“Assumin’ the story is written by Tonic, who is Navajo, he works with your uncle, then this must be his annual party. He hosts a community gathering every July, makes the meanest mutton stew and they plant their community garden together. I dropped by once or twice. Then, the crops they’re planting in the story are all supposed to be planted in July. So, it’s an educated guess as any.” 

It had been the correct guess, the shelf retreated and swung aside to reveal a small, sleek room. It looked like a designer man cave with dark, inky blue walls and a deep, wine-red glossy ceiling. The walls were covered in Statesman weapons and tech, but it wasn’t inventory so much as it was memorabilia. He spotted his own old Colt Single Action Army Revolver in one of the displays, Jack felt himself choking up at the thought that Gin had kept it. There was a personal drink bar as well as a wall-mounted wine rack that he was sure contained only the choicest of wines. Marley ran her finger over a neat line of DVDs on the opposite wall, each marked with a date and location. Jack fired up the main attraction of the room— a sweet home theatre system. 

“So your secret society pairs you up by spirits and their mixers? Gin and Tonic? Who is your partner? Pineapple juice?” She teased. 

“Yup, it’s a nifty little thing we like to do with our senior agents. Gin and Tonic, Rum and Coke, Whiskey and Ginger. I’m paired with the resident tech genius.” There was a note of pride in his voice. 

A disc was already inserted into the attached DVD player, that started ringing out… wet sloppy noises. They both stared slack-jawed and gobsmacked as the Gin on screen took a dick deep into his throat. Dear Lord. Jack could bet a fortune that the dick belonged to Tonic. 

A hand came up to affectionately pat Gin on his cheek, “You gonna let me fuck your mouth, baby?” Definitely Tonic. Marley sounded out a sharp gasp, a hand covering her own mouth to muffle the subsequent cackle. Jack hurriedly switched off the screen before they had to watch more, dousing the room back into its dim lighting. 

“THAT was the evil plot? THAT’S WHAT HE WAS HIDING?” She devolved into more laughter. 

It certainly was entirely anti-climactic, and Jack was grateful for it. He scoffed a disbelieving chuckle, part angry and part relieved. He could understand why they would want to keep their relationship under wraps. There were queer agents at Stateman; Tequila, for one, during their training days, Jack had to take him back to base from their local honky-tonk countless times while he tried to drown his heartbreak in his drink. The rodeo clown dating the closeted star rider was a tough lesson in heartbreak and he had entertained a steady string of lovers, regardless of gender, ever since. Ginger, was also similar, but much more sedate in choosing lovers. Jack wished they’d both wake up and smell the coffee to finally realise they were made for each other.

But, ultimately, they were all younger. Gin and Tonic wouldn’t have had the same freedom to express themselves, he knew how some of the old biddies in upper management at Statesman weren’t too accepting. He just couldn’t believe they hadn’t told him, not that they were obliged to, but they really let him run across the world like a headless chicken fearing the worst— evil plots, agency compromised, blackmail and extortion. What hadn’t his mind come up with in the past few months, only for the big secret to be a room full of self-directed spank bank? Jesus. Champ obviously knew as well, that’s why he was ordered to stay out of it. Nice of him to protect his friends. Delayed deliveries and unpredictable expenses, my ass. Jack would go back to write a strongly-worded memo to Champ about the misuse of agency assets for personal pleasure and recreation. He needed a raise for all this stress. 

There was a sudden loud crash behind him, Jack felt his mind focus on his surroundings, instincts alertly looking for danger. He spotted the broken lamp on the floor, and Marley leaning on the shelf. 

“Jack? I don’t feel so good.” She slumped onto the ground. 

Jack felt real panic seize him, he didn’t know how he made his way to her; he stumbled near her collapsed form like the land was snatched from under his feet and he was desperately trying to keep up. The air seemed scarce, none of it was making it into his lungs. But she was breathing, Marley was breathing. 

“I’m okay, it’s okay. My legs just gave out, they feel a little numb.” He checked her legs for injuries or pain as well as he could while she gripped onto his arms. He didn’t know what he was saying but hopefully, it was soothing, reassuring. 

“Jack, Jack, I… can’t feel them. I can’t feel my legs.” There was an edge of fear and hysteria in her voice. 

His hands came up to frame her face, forcing her to look into her eyes, “It’s gonna be okay. Hey, listen to me. Breathe… That’s right. Nice, deep breaths. It’s okay, we’ll figure this out,” Marley’s hands fell away from his arms, he wasn’t breathing, nothing was okay, “Baby? Talk to me. What’s happening?”

“My arms feel numb too… What’s happening to me?” 

Jack checked her over for open cuts, she must have been drugged or poisoned. She could have inhaled or eaten something dangerous. The breakfast tray. No, he had eaten and drank everything she had. Then in this room? Couldn’t have been an airborne substance since he’s breathing just fine. 

“Honey? Did you eat or drink anything in this room?” Marley shook her head. Damn it, Fuck. 

Jack was finding it difficult to breathe, the situation dawned on him with the weight of a massive bull; it crushed his chest until his lungs ached and he couldn’t breathe like his face was pressed into the ground. He screamed for Matthew. His own voice sounded like it was coming from the next room, he briefly wondered if Gin would hear him. He could be anywhere in this blasted mansion. 

“Jack? Snap out of it. It’s okay, we’re okay.” He wildly looked around there had to be something, anything he could do. He tried to remember his training, but for the first time in his life, Jack pulled a blank. He’s got nothing. No instinct, no training, no clever solution, no calm strategy. He had nothing. Nothing but a yawning pit of fear eating away at all of his rational thoughts. 

“JACK!” Marley came back in focus. He should get up, gather the strength in his legs and go looking for Mathew. But nothing could move him, the world could be ending outside in a parade of hellfire and biblical floods and Jack would be unable to take his eyes off Marley. He had already let one woman die scared and alone, he couldn’t do this to Marley too. Jack gathered himself, and glued the pieces of his scattered brain back together in a hapless barricade against the fear and panic. It was like facing machine guns and heavy artillery with a heap of fucking smiley bouncing balls.

“It’s crazy that you became a spy. How does somebody even get into a career like that?” They recruit you. Jack would answer her if his tongue wasn’t sitting in his mouth like a dried-up slug. 

“I’m sure they would have to come looking for you since you can’t look for them with all that secrecy, right?” Jack gave her a hasty nod. He moved the piece of hair falling over her forehead that Marley was trying to flick away and tucked it behind her ear.

“Matthew recruited me—”

“Yeah? How did you meet?” There was relief in her teary eyes. He summoned himself to answer her, be present with her. He won’t let her feel alone. Jack clutched at her cold and loose hand, desperately rubbing warmth into her body. 

“He found me, at the military base where I was stationed. Offered me a dangerous job that paid well.”

“Mhm, and what did you say?”

“I asked him if it was more dangerous than what I was doing now.” Marley slid to the side, unable to hold herself up, and Jack fought the rising dread within. He gathered her in his arms; holding them both upright took Herculean strength. 

“He said if I was any good at it, this war would look like a kid’s play area at a Burger King,” Jack pressed his lips to the crown of her head, “Only condition was nobody would ever know what I did for the world.” 

“Why… did you take?” Her words were slurred like she was mumbling in her sleep. Jack rapidly patted her cheek, begging her to wake up, to keep her eyes open, to look at him. And when pleading failed, he turned to threats, if she didn’t wake up he would be very mad, he wouldn’t talk to her, he would punch her uncle, and rip the hair out of her cousin’s skull.  

“Don’t sleep, don’t fall asleep. Tell me”— his voice cracked with despair—“tell me something about yourself.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, like, what do you do for work? Your favourite horse at the derby? Go-to cocktail? Favorite Phineas and Ferb character? Mine’s Doof, Perry is a close second.” His words came out rushed despite the effort he made to keep the terror tightly reigned inside. 

“Run a company, love Ferb. And um…” Her eyes rolled back and Jack bit his tongue to keep from making that distressing sound that was bubbling up his throat. He tasted blood. The sound escaped anyway— a strangled, gasping sob. 

“Jack? Don’t cry… just a little sleepy, m’okay.” Marley turned her face to rub her forehead against his chest to comfort him. He felt hollow inside yet so heavy, all his organs having left their rightful place to coagulate in the pit of his stomach like a cancerous knot that wouldn’t let him breathe. It’ll kill him, he was sure. Because Jack couldn’t imagine a moment after this one, he had no life past the one being sustained by Marley’s shallow breaths. 

Suddenly, large hands appeared to take Marley, but he would not be wrested of her. Jack tightened his grip on Marley, contorting his body to wrap around hers, pulling her closer and hiding her from whoever was trying to grab her. Nobody could take her from him. Not death. Not God. He will not part from her. You leave her alone, you hear? You can’t take her. You can’t have her. He felt a soft warm exhale of air on his ear. She was breathing. She was breathing. She was breathing. Jack found his vision clear once more, and he shakily wiped away his tears from her cheek— they’d fallen right on the scratch Blondie left on her, he didn’t want it to sting. 

There was a blur of motion around him, and before he could stop it, an injection was abruptly jabbed into Marley’s shoulder. He saw red. Jack looked up fuming, he needed to know what they gave her. Gin’s kind, all-too-knowing eyes looked down on him in a faintly pitying way. Jack felt him rub his back like he was soothing a spooked horse, he hadn’t even realised he was shaking and trembling. His jaw ached from clenching and grinding his teeth. 

“Gin… she’s—” His words came out in a croak like they were fighting against the pins and needles stabbing at his throat to be heard.

“She’s fine, son. She’ll wake up in a hot minute. Why don’t we move her to the couch in the office?”

It felt bizarre to sit, Marley was slumbering on the sofa, a blanket tucked around her and Matthew eased a pillow under her head. He was still… disoriented. His eyes were seeing, yet unseeing; his ears were hearing but not quite listening. He had heard Gin’s explanations, washed his hands clean of the drugs, according to his instructions, in the bathroom across the hall and then pulled a chair to sit by the couch. He felt like he was floating three feet above the ground, but also chained down to those heavy tires from training he had to drag behind him. Jack watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, funny how that was how his day had begun— watching her sleep, simmering in his anger, not at her, he was never angry at her, but always at himself. It was all his fault. He dragged her into this mess. She should have been sitting by the Christmas tree by now, opening presents with her family. 

“Here, drink some of this, it’s tea.” Tea? He wasn’t gonna drink that. He needed a stiff drink. The cup felt too heavy in his arms. Jack was exhausted but he looked around for a bottle of booze— anything would do.  

“Drink up, I don’t know what’s in it but Marley uses it for her anxiety.” He obediently took a sip. It soothed his throat.

His eyes gravitated towards her, he knew she would wake up, Gin had said as much, but there was still a sliver of fear coursing through his veins. It was just a paralytic drug that he had coated onto the DVDs, to keep the intruder in place in case his sexuality was discovered and Gin could talk him out of exposing his secret; or stun them with an amnesia dart. 

“Dropped some honey in the tea… for your throat”— Gin took a seat at his desk with a deep sigh—“you were screaming up the whole house, panicked everyone. It’s not like you.” 

Was that why his throat felt raw? 

“I’ve told everyone that Marley fainted and it scared you.”

“Why didn’t they come check on her?” It was an absurd thing to worry about, considering all the lies and secrets they were trying to cover up. 

“She’s had dizzy spells before, anaemia” So? They will just let her faint and not help or check in? The muscles of his jaw gave a twitch of frustration. 

“Are you worried about her?” He could barely think about anything else.

“Yes.” 

“May I ask what’s between you two?” He didn’t know. Their hearts? A future? Nothing. Everything.

“Jack, what are your intentions with my niece?” 

“I have none, sir.” He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. He had lost once and couldn’t survive it again. They were both safer apart. Spies didn’t have families. Today, they were both incredibly lucky. But it wouldn’t always be this simple. Anybody coming for him would find their easiest and fastest path through her. And he couldn’t always stick around to protect her. He had failed once before and he would fail again. He wasn’t strong enough.  

“Are you sure about that?” No, he was terrified.

Gin’s hand rested heavy and comforting on his shoulder, “If you let fear overrule your life you won’t end up happy. You’ll be old and alone on Christmas, missing the love of your life, wishing you had been brave. Take my advice, son, have some damn intentions for her.”

Series Index Part 3

[anabdaniels]

So, I was minding my own business making my new year's selfies, when my goddamn pinterest thought I had to see this before the year is over.

AND IT WAS FUCKING RIGHT!

Also, I have so many questions about this: Poppy (on the floor I guess) at the background, Harry massaging Jack's shoulders, Jack's hair being an adorable mess. THERE'S SO MANY DAMN LAYERS ON THIS IMAGE.

[anabdaniels]

The fact that this scene actually was on the trailer

Delete scene: Lucilla sees one last time Marcus 🥺

[anabdaniels]

Local God

A Secret Santa gift to @papipascaaaal.

Huge thanks to @pedrostories for this marvelous event.

Paring: Marcus Acacius x Female reader

Summary: It was supposed to be the best work of your life analyzing the general's statue, you just didn't expected the statue to turn into the general himself.

Word counting: 7.6k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Major spoilers of Gladiator II, descriptions of damaged mental health, heavy angst.

A/N: This ain't 100% historically accurate for the sake of convenience, but nothing too serious. I created Acacius' full name based on this post by @elflutter.

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || AO3 Link

You couldn’t contain yourself.

And actually, you weren’t the only one, after all, it wasn't every day that a statue from 210 AD showed up so well preserved, especially after the failed attempt of a damnatio memoriae. You spent your whole day in the museum room where the statue was placed, walking around it as you took notes about what you already knew and what remained an incognita, fascinated about all the information you had and wondering about the things you might never find the answer to.

You were about to roll your eyes and dismiss whoever was knocking at your door and interrupting your line of thought, but you promptly smiled sympathetically as you saw the kind old man who worked on the museum's cleaning team.

“We’re closing, Dr.” the senior man warned in his usual sympathetic tone, refusing to let go to address you by your academic title even after the many times you asked him to.

“Already?” you stated surprised and checked the hours on your computer, surprised by how you didn’t see it passing “I fear I’ll stay a little longer.”

“New boyfriend?” The man joked while opening the door slightly more to take a better look at the statue “I don’t know how you’re not afraid of being locked with these things.”

“Yeah, the big boy is keeping me occupied.” You joked back while patting the statue “You get used to them with the passing time.”

“I’m fine being away from them.” He laughed and shook his head “Good night, dear.”

“Good night.” You turned back to your notes when the man closed the door, recovering your line of thoughts and inevitably getting lost in them, wondering about so many things. You had spent most of your life studying ancient civilizations, especially Egyptians and Romans, and some events always got you thinking if the ancient rulers were truly that full of themselves or were simply dumb.

That statue in front of you was one of those cases.

You looked at the inscription on the marble plinth, a few bronze letters have fallen, but the dented gaps where they used to be had the shape of the letters, keeping the phrase complete and readable: ACACIVS VICTOR AFRICAE. Being face to face with such an opulent statue you wondered how crazy or stupid Geta and Caracalla were to think that the people would be amused with what and how they did to Acacius after they had converted him into Rome's greatest hero.

“You must have lived a hell of a life, hum, general?” you chuckled and shook your head, putting down your notebook on the nearest table and walking to the coffee machine on the opposite corner of the room, pulling your phone from your pocket while you waited for your espresso to be ready.

After the first shot of caffeine of the night, you hopped to get your brain to work faster, especially having drunk it while watching that sequence of short videos, remembering your psychologist explaining to you how they were probably the biggest cause of your troubles to fall asleep quickly. As you put your phone down and took back your papers, you were just about to write down what the next subjects you needed to check about the statue, until the noises of the street cats distracted you, making you involuntarily look towards the window.

And that simple action made any thought you could have shut down completely.

You blinked once, twice, rubbed your eyes, looked both sides, and still couldn’t gather a single logical thing in your mind, after all, wasn’t every day that an almost 6ft tall statue simply disappeared from its plinth. By the morning when it was brought to the Capitoline Museum and you got in charge of studying it, you thought that could only be a dream while seeing that it seemed to have evaporated, you prayed to all and any gods for it to be a dream, but your hope to be living a nightmare was crashed at the very second you heard a noise among the shelves near the door accompanied by a huge shadow; definitely wasn’t a mouse trying to gnaw old papers.

“Who’s there? This ain’t funny.” You felt like a stupid character from a low-budget horror movie while taking a few steps closer to the origin of the noise, but it wasn’t even a conscious move. You froze completely as the figure came out of the dark, not knowing if you wanted to run away or get closer.

“I apologize, ma’am. I mean you no harm.” The man spoke calmly, his deep voice echoing in the room.

“How did you… There’s no… You were just…” you still were incapable of making any coherent statement while facing a Roman general alive and right in front of you.

“I do not know how I am here either, ma’am.” Acacius explained himself while raising his hands at the level of his shoulders, wanting to guarantee you didn’t see him as a threat.

“This can’t be fucking real. You were a pile of bronze just two minutes ago.” You shook your head, rubbing your face one last time to make sure you were awake. “How could you just pop in here, Acacius?” The man seemed a bit surprised by your crude lingo, but what caught his attention wasn’t that.

“You know me?” he asked in a genuine mix of surprise and doubt.

“Of course, any dumbass that heard about ancient Rome knows the great General Marcus Acacius Justus Sacratus.” You said as if it was obvious, still shocked by the absurd situation.

“Ancient Rome?” he asked cluelessly, raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean, you lived on 210 AD and we are now on 2024 AD.” At that point you were sounding more casual, still not believing such circumstances, but holding yourself to the idea that you simply didn’t remember falling asleep and were having the craziest dream. Acacius digested the information with a frown, seeming to simply accept your statement.

“And what did you call me?”

“Acacius Justus Sacratus. They gave you the Sacratus agnomen after the chaos people made in Rome when the emperors tried to erase you.” You were quite surprised as you saw the shadow of a smile forming on his lips “Whatever, this is all kinda unbelievable. You weren’t supposed to be here. Oh my god, how I’m gonna explain to the director that a whole ass statue simply disappeared under my watch? I’m so fucked up, it would be our biggest exposition this year. I’m gonna be fired.” You had a small outburst of despair when the whole scene finally got solid in your imagination, after all, saying that one of the most searched historical objects had simply converted into its human form wouldn’t convince anyone.

“I deeply apologize for any inconvenience I might be causing you; I will leave immediately if it could help you.” Acacius’ sincere tone hit straight on your nerves, making you unsure if you were mad or sentimental about it.

“Leave where? The Rome you knew has fallen long ago and everything has changed. The empire you used to know and serve is now no more than a bunch of ruins spread across the whole Italy. Let aside the fact that you wouldn’t adapt to this new world by yourself and no one would believe your story. In no time you’d turn into an indigent or end up locked in a mental hospital because everyone would be convinced that you’re schizophrenic or something similar. And don’t get me started with your festive dress.” You said referring to his armor with the golden head of Medusa on the chest and the pompous red cape around his shoulders. “I can’t let you go, Acacius.” You sighed frustrated, all of that becoming too much. Acacius was lowkey confused about a few things you said, but also your temper was starting to annoy him.

“Well, since you know everything, tell me the way back home.” He rolled his eyes halfway, bothered about how you were speaking as if he wasn’t in a difficult situation either or had chosen to be there.

“Don’t start with that, I’ve dedicated a great part of my life to studying yours. I know your sassy temper.” You rolled your eyes, for a second lowkey forgetting that his personality was your smaller problem. Acacius had an answer ready, but your declaration got him unprepared.

“You studied my life?” he questioned, raising one eyebrow.

“Of course I did. You turned into the military version of Julius Caesar in terms of popularity, one of the most mentioned names when the subject is ancient Rome.” You sighed heavily, looking away from him “And I never got over what they did to you.” Acacius wondered for a moment what you were referring to, but he imagined you meant the whole situation in the coliseum.

“I remember all that.” He started in a contemplative tone “I remember being there, the exhaustion, the despair of my dear Lucilla, the pain of the first arrows, then I woke up somewhere else and remained there until today.” He sighed and shook his head “Do you have any idea of what happened?”

“No. Despite all the theories about time traveling and supernatural events, there’s nothing concrete about it that could explain you coming back to life.” You passed one hand over your hair, taking a deep breath. “Well, since I’m already screwed up with all this, can you answer a few things I always wanted to know?”

“Go ahead, it is not as if I have anything else to do.” Acacius agreed while taking a couple of steps to approach you by your desk, looking curious at your notes written on those peculiarly connected letters.

“Are the theories that you were trained by Maximus himself true?” you looked at him expectantly, feeling like your life would finally make sense with that answer.

“Yes, I had the honor of having him as a mentor.” He confirmed while curiously nudging the mouse of your computer, looking abruptly back at you when you slapped the wooden surface.

“I fucking knew it.” You sounded like an excited child “The behavioral pattern in matters of war is so obvious and explains your ties with the royal family. I know I wasn’t crazy!” you got slightly self-conscious as you realized Acacius’ confusedly staring at you, surprised that such a simple thing seemed to be such a big deal to you. “Now you probably think I’m crazy.”

“Not much shocks me after Geta and Caracalla. You look very normal to me.” He affirmed casually, taking a genuine laugh at you with how he seemed so casual about everything.

“Speaking about our crazy boys, the urban legend that you laughed when they threatened you with a damnatio memoriae it’s true either?” Once again you saw yourself breathing slowly to not miss a thing of the answer.

“Sincerely, I am not proud of it, but yes.” He shrugged with a discreet grin “But how do you know such a thing?”

“Well, we believe that it started as a rumor among the Pretorians that spread like fire on the straw due to people’s compassion for your history.” You looked away as your phone screen turned on with some random notification, but what got your attention was Acacius’ suspicious gaze toward the object. “Don’t be amazed so quickly, there’s a lot of weirdest technologies nowadays.”

“Everything seems quite familiar to me.” He said while looking around the room.

“We’re in the middle of the Capitoline Museum, what did you expect?”

“Capitoline?” he ignored your sarcastic remark, more interested in the familiar name.

“Come with me.” Before he could agree, you already had grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to the hallway.

“But this is...”

“Yes, the imperial palace.” You finished his statement as the two of you walked through the hallway full of statues.

“But you said more than a millennium has passed since my time. This place did not change at all.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, stopping a few steps away from the staircase, pissed at yourself for assuming Acacius would magically guess what happened in the last 1814 years.

“This is a museum now; the idea is precisely to keep all of this the most intact possible. Look at that.” You pointed to The Dying Gaul behind Acacius “This is from around 60-40 BC, approximately 150 years older than you and still perfectly preserved, just like everything else here. That’s why your statue was brought here, to be studied, cataloged, and exposed to the public, while we made sure it was kept safe and intact.” Acacius attentively listened to your explanation, actually surprised that those things were from his time or even before since they looked very much like they used to in their time.

“Now it makes sense to me.” He took another look around the hallway and then back to you “What do you want to show me?”

“C’mon, general.” You passed your arm on his while going downstairs, laughing at his expression mixed with confusion and surprise. You got out of the building, getting to the courtyard and leading to the front door, you hesitated for a second before opening it. “Please don’t lose your mind.” You sighed quietly when he nodded and opened the door in front of you.

Acacius took a first hesitant step, at first not seeing anything so different, but then he paid more attention; the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius showing the signs of time with the marks on the bronze, if only he knew that wasn’t even the original one, the pavement also didn’t pass unnoticed by him, definitely that wasn’t there the last time he saw the place. Afraid with which other changes he could find, but unable to hold back himself, he walked closer to the edge of the square, taking a full view of the city, unable to identify what he was feeling while seeing a completely new city, despite still being able to see the Rome he used to know on those ruins. Acacius leaned against the plinth of one of the two enormous statues at the entrance of the Capitoline square, only then seeming to completely understand how much has happened in the world since his death.

“Are you alright?” you asked, approaching him, noticing his distress.

“Yes.” He answered while looking again at the city for a moment, then back at you “I just did not expect all this.”

“You’ll get used to it.” You said casually, not wanting to make the situation worse. “C’mon, we can’t stay here for too long, it’s almost 6 am, soon the team will be here to prepare the guided tour.” Acacius just followed you while still looking around, less shocked, but still not totally believing in what he was seeing.

“What is this?” he questioned as you opened that unknown metallic device.

“It's nowadays carriages.” You answered with one arm lying on the car door “Get in, general. I’ll take you home.”

“You are quite an odd lady.” He said unable to suppress a chuckle.

“I’m not the one wearing a dress and a crown of golden laurels.” You rolled your eyes with a quiet laugh as he got into the car the best someone from his time could. You closed the door and walked around, getting into the vehicle and looking at Acacius, smiling at his childish curiosity at the screen showing the GPS.

“Is this a map?” he asked while recognizing the image.

“Yes, and this little dot there moves simultaneously as we move.” You mentioned starting the car and moving on the street.

“Fascinating!” Acacius’ enthusiasm was obvious “This would have been so useful to navigations.”

“You would love to be a general nowadays.” You kept looking at the street in front of you but could see Acacius’ head turning to every side it could.

Your way back home at these hours used to be boring, but not when you had your favorite historical figure asking you tons of questions: “What happened to the coliseum walls? What are those red and green lights? How does the map dot know where we are going? How did those strange street torches extinguish themselves?” Most times you’d be annoyed with so many questions, but the way he sounded so fascinated and curious kind of warmed your heart, making your brain occasionally click; you’d never give any of your male coworkers a ride to the next street corner, yet you felt completely at ease near to an ancient roman general you only knew through the tons of history books you read over your life, truly feeling like some kind of good aura came from him.

And the same was true for him. Despite the little harsh moments you had earlier, he trusted completely his judgment about people, and you definitely were on the trustworthy side for him, after all, he understood you would be in trouble with whoever was your superior, yet you refused to let him at his luck.

Finally, at your house, Acacius’ fascinations with the modern world didn’t cease, some of them quite comprehensible, like his shock when your Alexa turned on all the lights on the house, and some others funnier like his interest in your thermal cup and how it was able to preserve temperature.

“Slow down, I still do not understand how people get inside this thing.” Acacius said in complete confusion while pointing to the TV in your bedroom.

“They don’t.” you laughed and sat next to him at the edge of your bed “What we see is that thing called video that I told you about.”

“Sincerely still confusing, but I think I understand.” He admitted while exploratory pressing the buttons on the remote, shocked with how many things existed inside that illuminated box “I know this.”  You turned to look at the same spot he was, realizing he was talking about some random movie with the Roman legions on the cover.

“Oh yeah, there’s quite a bunch of movies about y’all and your fancy battle clothes.” You mentioned while looking into the grocery store bag you just found next to your bed, not remembering when that got lost there.

“But how do they have video from that time?” you couldn’t hold a genuine laugh at his adorable confusion.

“It’s not from your time, Acacius. It’s all acting as they did in Roman theaters, but now instead of only doing it in real-time, they record it so we can watch it multiple times, at any time we want.”

“How many amazing things exist in this time?” he questioned with an amused frown.

“A lot to be fair.” You found a bag of chips among your lost groceries “Lemme show you modern food.” You said as you opened the package and held it to him, with no second thoughts Acacius took a potato from the bag, savoring it as if it was a fine delicacy.

“This is what you eat every day?” He was already grabbing another chip from the package.

“Not ideally, but sometimes it happens.” You chuckled and grabbed the remote “Let’s watch this. Nothing like a real Roman general to tell me how accurate it is.” You settled better and played the movie.

You were surely amazed at his observations about the movie, sometimes perplexed with something absurdly inaccurate or highly excited with the facts that matched the reality while gladly savoring the potato chips. The most entertained you were, it was almost 8 am on Saturday and you’ve been awake since 6 am on Friday, so you didn’t even realize you started to melt on the bed, until you ended up fully asleep in an awkward position. When he stopped to listen to your opinions about his comments, Acacius looked at you, smiling discreetly as he saw you knocked out with one arm hanging out of the bed. Careful to not wake you, Acacius placed your asleep body the rest more comfortably and laid down on the other side of the bed, turning his gaze at you after looking around the whole room, still processing how amazing those modern things were and how you could be such a pleasing company despite your occasional rude manners.

"Acacius, I'm back." You said by the front door while taking off your coat. Not much later he showed up with a dishcloth in hand, taking a smile from you. "Hope you didn't make any mess in my kitchen." You joked despite knowing he hadn't.

"Can you trust me at least a bit?" He raised both eyebrows "I was just dealing with that plate cleaner thing." He said referring to your dishwasher, making you chuckle and shake your head. A week has passed and you were shocked by how good of a roommate Acacius was. He quickly understood how things worked nowadays to keep a house in order, accepting easily that no one would be around organizing the place and bringing him food as it used to be in his time, and he seemed to be quite fine with getting some tasks done, feeling useful and entertained while you were at work.

"I need to teach you how to use the vacuum cleaner." You chuckled and fell on the couch, pressing your temples and closing your eyes.

"Is everything alright?" Acacius moved to sit by your side, noticing your tension.

"They want to open the exposition next week." You said with a heavy breath "I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Oh, my dear, I feel so sorry for causing you all this situation." He reached to touch your hand, looking at you with a guilty face.

"It's not your fault." You looked at him and smiled "And at the end, if I have to get stuck with any historical figure, I'm happy it's you." you hesitated for a moment, but surrendered to your desperate need for some comfort, tucking yourself between his arms and resting your head near the medusa figure of his armor he refused to take off. "Damn, you're probably the best man I ever met." It all got Acacius unprepared. You had exchanged some casual physical contact, especially because the two of you ended up falling asleep together every night while you showed him some new modern thing or asked him about how accurate the information you knew about his time was, he even occasionally woke up with your head resting on his arms a couple times, but nothing like that.

“I am really sorry to have met you in such complicated circumstances.” He started while wrapping his arms around you “But I have to agree with you about it, I wouldn’t choose another awkward sorceress to get stuck with.” He mentioned that in that casual sassy manner, making you look at him with a frown despite the silly smile on your face.

“I’m not a sorceress, it’s just technology. The awkward part, you might be right.” You shook your head while your fingers brushed against the medusa on his chest.

“It fits your beauty.” He said it with no flourishes, making your brain freeze for a moment, that was the last thing you expected to hear. Aware that your current situation couldn’t be worse, you stopped fighting against your rational thoughts and leaned forward, pressing your lips on his, not knowing what to expect from it, but being gladly surprised by the warm big hand rubbing your back as Acacius instinctively pulled you closer to him.

And everything became a blur. Nothing else mattered. For a moment you forgot that your job was at risk, that you had no idea why Acacius was there and for how long he’d stay, that was completely insane to fall in love with a man who could disappear in the blink of an eye just like he showed up, but you couldn’t do anything about it. Even before knowing him in person your affection towards him was a thing, since you never accepted how fate could’ve been so cruel to a good man, and after spending a whole week with him, feeling more at home and happy than ever, that feeling could only grow. To your luck, it wasn’t a one-sided thing. Acacius’ mind was a complete chaos on the first day, cursing the gods for having done such a thing with him, making him live once more with the vivid memory of his tragedy, but after spending some time with you, he started to consider it a gift from the gods; the chance of live again while having the company of such a peculiar figure like you, while having the unique experience of see by himself how the world evolved after Rome.

“I’m sorry.” Your whisper cut the line of thought of both of you as you leaned lightly backward “I shouldn’t have…” you were silenced by the thumb softly pressing your lips.

“Do not worry. I have finally known how the most spectacular thing from this time feels, I could not be more blessed by the gods.” You were incapable of thinking about an answer and he didn’t give you the time to do such a thing, pressing another kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mr. Bianchi, I promise you this is the last extra time I ask you.” You begged with all your might, unable to decipher your boss’ expression.

“Dear, I know your amazing work and for me, you could have a whole year with that statue, but it doesn’t depend solely on my wish as you know very well.” The old man spoke while aligning the pile of papers on his desk.

“Another week is all I ask.” You tried your chances, twisting your keys between your fingers.

“Impossible. The best I can do for you is a couple of days.”

“I understand.” You nodded, trying to keep yourself together, and got up, leaving the room after a weak goodbye.

You crossed the building of the museum faster than you ever had, glad that the visits were already closed, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing the tears of despair rolling down your face. As you got out at the Capitoline Square, you walked around a couple of times in complete confusion. What would you do when they searched for the statue and only found the empty plinth? How would you convince anyone that your new roommate and lover was the lost statue? You certainly would go to jail accused of robbing the historical piece. Your academic career would be dead and buried and Acacius would be completely alone. Damn, you couldn’t bear the idea of him not knowing why you didn’t come back home or worse, thinking you had abandoned him voluntarily. The only way your life could not end in a disaster was if Acacius became a statue again, but that you could never wish for. Not only because your feelings towards him were almost unhealthily growing with each passing day or because you couldn’t imagine sleeping without his warmth again, but also because he seemed to be so happy and living such a light life, the life he deserved of all the misfortune he experienced before.

Standing in the middle of the empty Capitoline square, you stared at the replica of the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, feeling your rage on the verge of getting out of control.

“Your stupid bastard. Couldn’t you have kept your damn dream of Rome to yourself? Couldn’t you have changed the fucking Roman rules and let your damn daughter assume the empire so she would’ve never involved Acacius in all of this? Your dumb old man.” You angrily shouted at the bronze figure of Marcus Aurelius as if he could hear you and as if Geta and Caracalla’s cruelty towards Acacius was his fault either.

Not wanting to bear your thoughts any longer, you ran to your car and drove like crazy back home, aware that you would probably receive some notes from the transit department, and not caring about anything else but hiding yourself in Acacius’ arms and pretending nothing of that was true and that you were just a simple roman peasant that got lucky enough to catch the attention of the empire’s greatest general.

“Acacius?” you called passing by the front door, your heartbeat getting wilder when he didn’t show up like every day until then “Acacius?” you called louder while starting to look around the house. You heard some noises from your backyard and headed there, sighing relieved as you saw your general there, safe and sound. Then your attention moved to the whole scene and you finally understood Acacius’ unending questions about modern table setting and the specific things he asked from the grocery after going into your grandma’s recipe book. “What is all of this?” you asked with a wide smile, observing the picnic towel in the middle of your patio filled with most of the recipes of your grandma that you told Acacius were your favorites.

“You have been so good to me and you’re one of the best hosts I ever met. I thought it would be the minimum to try to reciprocate it.” He explained while stopping in front of you, placing his golden laurels on your head with a playful smile then held out one hand to you. You were anesthetized while holding his hand, your mind going blank of all worries and concerns. How could he become better at any passing second? You would never know.

Your heart felt light as a feather on the wind while you two shared that meal under the starry sky and your body was almost in a trance, making you unable to do better than nod with a silly smile at every word that fell from Acacius’ lips, fully convinced that if the afterlife paradise existed, it must be like that: sit on the grass and be fed on the mouth by a gold-hearted man while using his laurels crown.

“You look distracted.” Acacius observed while fiddling with a lock of your hair.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that all of this seems better than any good dream I ever had.” You moved to sit sideways on his lap; after two complete weeks and five days of living together, that already had become a casual move between the two of you.

“I am glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your forehead “And be warned that I intend to do it again.”

“You won’t hear a single complaint from me, general.” You chuckled and passed your hand through his graying hair, laying forward to rest your face against the curve of his neck.

“I am not sure if your personality would allow you such a thing, but I will have faith in you.” Acacius pressed a soft kiss on your temple and remained like that, enjoying the warm feel of you all nestled on his lap, not knowing when was the last time he felt so at peace, not even the annoying cold on his arm being able to disturb him at that moment.

 Having spent most of his life in the Roman wars, the feeling of being at home wasn’t a familiar sensation to him, but Acacius knew very well that being tangled at you in the middle of your patio with your breath tickling his neck was certainly his new definition of home, even in that strange period with its mechanisms that looked very much like some kind of wizard work and the memories of his first life haunting him, he still was unbothered by any of it.

“Are you tired?” he asked softly as your eyelids fell closed, caressing your face.

“No, I’m just too comfortable here.” You shifted slightly to look at him, smiling when he aligned the laurels on your head.

“Very well then, this was the goal.” He playfully pinched your cheek, making you chuckle and shrug.

“Damn, your hand is freezing.” You straightened yourself on his lap, rubbing his biceps to confirm that he was cold. “You’ll need a long-sleeved tunic to survive the winter.” You laughed and gave him a soft peck on the lips before leaning a bit backward, frowning as you felt a weird nudge on your back. You turned to look at what it was and immediately wished you had never done it, feeling the tears promptly forming in your eyes as you tried to deny the horrible truth, refusing to believe that Acacius’ whole right forearm was turning back into bronze. His gaze followed yours and he could only sigh exasperated when he saw it; despite imagining that the gods may not let him stay forever, he hoped it’d happen later. “No!” you shook your head in complete denial “This can’t be true.” You hugged him tight, hoping that was just a nightmare, but at the same time, you could feel his warmth fading away and his skin becoming as cold as the metal of his armor.

“Darling,” he cupped your face with his left hand, unable to move the other one “we both knew this might happen. Do not cry, everything will be alright, you will not have any trouble explaining my disappearance now.” It broke your heart how calmly he told you that, reminding you that he was the same man who surrendered in the coliseum to spare his stepson’s life, of course, he would only be happy and relieved that you would have a statue to present to your superior.

“It isn’t worth anything to me if I have to come back to my empty house every day. How am I supposed to go back to my old life now, Acacius? Who’ll make me explain to them that the singers aren’t trapped inside the radio?” you were already sobbing, holding onto his red cape for dear life.

“Ease yourself, dear. You are a very clever lady; I am sure you will be alright without me.” Acacius smiled tenderly, his eyes watery.

“I’ll not. This is not fair. I’ve dreamt my whole life about meeting you, and now that I did, you’ll leave me.” You clung to him like a scared child, feeling heartbroken with the idea of him coming back to be just a pile of bronze.

“Little dove, we both know this is not my place, no matter how much I loved every second spent with you. Furthermore, you’ll be close to me every day at the museum. It will be okay.” His voice was calm despite the crying tone. You still were in complete denial, but the rest of his arm also turning back into bronze was harshly bringing you back to reality.

“We should take you back to the museum, then.” That was the last thing you wanted to do, but there was no other choice.

The ride to the museum was dead silent, just like many authors said it happened at the coliseum the day Geta ordered Acacius’ assassination, and then you understood why the sepulchral silence was always mentioned in every work about the event, it was indeed a horrible thing to experience.

The way into the Capitoline Museum wasn’t the easiest, Acacius’ mobility was getting reduced and you could only curse Michelangelo for having put those huge ass stairs when he designed the place in the 16th century. Finally, at the Gallery floor of the Palazzo Nuovo, you entered the room you were designated to work in when Acacius’ statue arrived, feeling even more heartbroken when an invisible force seemed to put him back on top of the marble plinth and position his body exactly as it was the first time you saw it, the process of turn back to bronze seemed to be faster.

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?” you asked, sitting by the floor, desolated resting against the cold marble.

“Maybe not in this life, but I am sure we will meet again someday.” Acacius answered in a weak voice, just the upper part of his torso still in its human form.

“This is too much time.” You whined completely miserable, feeling like you didn’t have any more tears left.

“I am sure my clever lady will find a way to spend this time.” That warm affectionate smile was the last thing you saw before the rest of him turned back into bronze and his face recovered that serious imposing expression that made you so happy when the statue was found, and now would forever haunt your nightmares.

You grabbed the laurels crown that still was in your head holding it tight against your chest, wanting to protect the only tangible memory of him you had, but of course, fate wouldn’t be so generous, taking your last hope away when the golden crown unmade itself, just to show up again at the head of the statue that just a half hour ago was your companion, then you couldn’t hold it back anymore, screaming and crying while holding into the cold metal legs of the sculpture, feeling your stomach twist and your heart ache, sobbing until your whole head was hurting and you had no more forces to stand on your feet.

You had no idea of how you made your way back home that night when you woke up on your couch, you didn’t dare to lay on your bed, fearing that Acacius’ scent might no be gone from your bedsheets and already certain you would never have the courage of wash them. You spend the whole day walking around the house like a zombie, also not daring to look at your backyard, aware that you didn’t have the strength to revive that final happy memory with him. You ignored the 20 lost calls of your boss, only calling him back by the end of the day to ask for a few days off, claiming that you were sick and your voice hoarse from your uninterrupted cry made the excuse very convincing.

A couple of days later you heard that the opening exhibition of Acacius’ statue was a success, and that would be all your contact with it. You wouldn’t dream of showing up there, you didn’t even know if you’d be able to ever enter the museum again, especially when you found out that after the first week, it would probably go to the same room as The Dying Gaul, so every day when you got up the staircase you would face it, wanting you or not.

That whole next week passed like a confused mess in your memory, you never knew when was the last time you had slept, eaten, or taken a shower. All you knew was your computer screen and the pile of papers and snack packages forming around it, wasn’t an unusual scenario, since a lot of your work required research, however, the difference this time was the content. You always valued facts with reliable bibliographical sources, yet there you were, reading articles written by people that in any other scenario, you would completely despise the work and refuse to read, but in desperate times, desperate measures are called for. You started with serious stuff such as Einstein's theory of gravity, but it didn’t lead you to any positive answer about time traveling or anything that could bring Acacius back, so you started to dive into dubious corners of the internet and searched all the roman mythology book you had to see if there was any legend that could give you any clue of what to do, but of course all that lead to nothing, you would even had searched about it on the dark web if that tutorial you followed had worked.

After days of non-stop research and at the edge of burnout, your logical thought finally seemed to be back, making you come to your senses for a second and realize that all that was bullshit. What happened to you and Acacius was probably an isolated situation that never could be replicated. Overthinking everything and having a manic episode, you saw yourself finally having the strength to deep clean the nasty place your house had become while talking to yourself about how ridiculous that was.

The only thing that you didn’t foresee was that brand new wave of sadness when you saw yourself standing in the middle of your perfectly clean and silent house, hoping that at any moment you would see Acacius showing up with a random electronic device asking you how it worked.

But he wouldn’t do it, never again.

The unique nature of your relationship that a few hours earlier served as a consolation, turned into your new nightmare. It had been an exceptional occasion, supposing that the gods existed, they probably just had accidentally messed up with some timeline and put you and Acacius together. Of course, it had to be an accident, there was no way your relationship would be manageable, at least not in 2024, if you were the one mistakenly showing up in ancient Rome, maybe it could work, but it wasn’t like that.

You entered another spiral of insanity, repeating to yourself that there was no chance of it ever happening again while you sobbed curled up on the side of the bed Acacius used to sleep, confirming that his scent indeed was still there. As you planned originally, you didn’t wash the bedsheets or the dishcloth he last touched, just like the dress you were wearing the night he turned into bronze again, preserving every crumb of his smell you could, and also going into some more serious business, taking a tone of pregnancy tests as you realized your period was late and praying to every force above for a positive result, hoping to have a part of Acacius with you, and feeling like the world was ending when after all the negatives, your period showed up.

Despite feeling like your life was over, after two weeks, you had to go back to the museum, looking away or closing your eyes every damn time you had to pass in front of the Sala del Gladiatore where now Acacius’ statue was, facing the Dying Gaul sculpture and the door, making it harder to ignore, especially if added the fact that the Gaul was your favorite statue of the museum, certainly a cruel joke of the destiny.

On that random ordinary afternoon, you were unworriedly turning off the hallway lights, after so much time working there, you managed to walk among the statues in the dim light without being terrified. You were ready to go downstairs, but saw that someone did you the favor of forgetting to turn off the light in that room you avoided for so long, for a moment you considered just letting it be, but you knew that was a risky move that could even start a fire, so you built the courage to walk in, planning to quickly turn off the light and leave, but you failed even before trying, passing through the switch near the door with no second thoughts.

You smiled as you stopped in front of the Dying Gaul, only then realizing you had missed him too; you used to pass there almost every day to look at him, but since they brought the general’s statue to the room two months before, you never entered there again. For a moment you wondered if it was just your confused mind or if the Gaul and Acacius looked a lot like each other.

After building the courage, you turned around to face Acacius, feeling that familiar sting in your heart. Indulging your search for some comfort, you sit by the floor, resting your back against the wall, just staying there for a moment.

“I have to admit you were right. I found a way to spend time. I adopted a dog, you know, a Pitbull mix, the cutest little guy. I named him Justino if you catch my drift.” You chuckled and looked at the other statues in the room. “Y’all stop judging me, I had to share with someone.” You looked up at Acacius, smiling widely as you briefly recalled the night when he became human. “I miss you, general, and sometimes I rewatch that horrible movie about the Roman army you found amazing. I hope you know I haven’t stopped thinking about you, I just needed time to put myself together. I’ll probably never stop thinking about our time together, and probably will show up here every day from now on.” You sighed and got up, looking at him with a sad smile “I cursed your gods a lot, but now I can only thank them for having messed up with whatever cable that controls the timelines of the world.” You reached one arm up, managing to touch one of his hands, relaxing with the familiar form, even with the warmth absent. “You’ll always hold a place in my heart.” You closed your eyes and allowed your head to fall forward, resting your forehead against the bronze surface. “Ubi tu gaius, ego gaia.” You mumbled quietly, taking a moment there before building the courage to walk away, turning off the light, and getting downstairs, wondering if would be a good idea to try to convince Mr. Bianchi to allow pets at the museum, at least for one day, so you could take Justino to meet Acacius and finally see the man you told him so much about and named him after.

[anabdaniels]

Easily one of the best fics I've ever read. AMAZING PERFECT SPECTACULAR

nymph. [1/2] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you

Warnings:  fluff, some nudity, battle flashbacks, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: quick shot. two part story. smut - definitely in the second part. I had a lot of pleasure writing this. I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"So this is the place you chose for your solitary travels... I wondered where you've been disappearing lately."

A shiver ran down your arms at the sound of a slightly amused and familiar voice. You quickly stood up from the bed and curtsied, lowering your gaze.

"My lady." You said quietly. "Please don't be angry with me. I didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"I see many things, my dear. But no, I'm not angry." She replied, you raised your gaze and looked into the beautiful and wise face of Minerva. The armor she was wearing gleamed gold, reflecting the trembling flames of the candles, and although she was leaning on a spear, the head of which looked menacing, her face was gentle and a bit pensive. "I'm rather intrigued by your choice. General Acacius, I didn't think he was the one stealing you from me."

You felt the warmth that crept up your neck and cheeks, you looked down again, and Minerva laughed quietly.

"I'm glad." she added after a moment. "He's one of my favorites. He has all the features I like so much. Although, he's still a mortal."

Your gaze wandered to the man sleeping in the bed. A white sheet wrapped around his hips, he slept on his stomach, and the strong muscles of his back were outlined under his sun-kissed skin. 

Dark, tousled hair, soft stubble on his face, and those plush lips, the General looked almost like one of the statues you saw in your lady's temples. This was how ordinary people imagined gods, and you, spending time with them, saw their features in this mortal. A delicate smile crept onto your lips.

"I like watching him." you said quietly "When he sleeps, when he plans the strategy for the next battle or when he just sits alone and simply thinks. Never before have any of them drawn me to them so much."

The goddess looked at you, clearly intrigued. "Never?" she repeated "You lived long before him and you will live long after his body turns to dust. So why him?"

You didn't know the answer to that question. And you had long since stopped asking yourself.

It was the sounds of joy at the victory that caught your attention and drew you to the place where you first saw General Marcus Acacius. Since you were a nymph of the goddess Minerva, ordinary mortals couldn't see you like that, so you easily made your way between the crowded soldiers and stood near the General. 

The rays of the sun reflected off the golden face of Medusa on his chest, and his face, although covered in battle dust and the blood of his opponent, glowed in the glory of victory. Your heart beat faster in your chest and you knew you wouldn't leave him again.

At first it was curiosity, just like the one children have inside them. You followed him, listened to his low and melodic voice, noticed how he sounded when he gave orders and how he talked to others. You learned the names of his direct subordinates, learned his customs, spent hours in the tent with his commanders listening to their discussions about strategy and the art of war.

You were like the wind that followed him wherever he went, but you also had to remember your duties. Then you returned to your mistress, the goddess Minerva, having previously thoroughly cleaned your hands and feet of the camp dust. You didn't think she saw all of this.

"I feel that this is my place, my lady." you spoke after a long moment of thought "I don't know why... Is it normal? Or right? I've heard people talk about fate, but I'm not one of them so I don't know if it applies to me too. My lady?"

You looked pleadingly at Minerva's wise face. You didn't know anyone else who could answer that question. However, she was staring at you with almost motherly tenderness and soon your name flowed from her lips like a sonorous melody.

"You know that he will die someday." she said, "People are mortal. They have their weaknesses, their bodies age. You have observed it for so many centuries, and despite everything you have become attached to one of them. It really surprises me, but I look at it with great pleasure."

You smiled at her, your eyes once again turning towards the sleeping man. "Can this be called love? Is this what people talk about and desire?"

"You have to see for yourself, my dear."

It was another night when he saw her face again. He almost got used to her presence, although he never really saw her for real. Or maybe? 

Marcus remembered exactly that one moment when he had the impression that he saw her face in reality, because until then she had visited him only in dreams. 

It was a cruel battle. The soldiers fought hard and fiercely. Hundreds of the fallen were lying on the ground, and shattered shields and swords were lying around them, useless for anything. 

He was dazed, he could still hear the pounding of his heart in his ears, his lungs were still fighting for every breath, but when he looked up he saw her. 

She was standing in the middle of it all, not very clear as if she was a remnant of fog. The rays breaking through the thick clouds illuminated her silhouette. He saw sadness and fear on her face as her eyes moved from one dead face to another. And then she looked straight at him, her lips moving as if she whispered his name. He wanted to say something, run to her even though his body was sore, but then he heard the terrifying shriek of crows, he blinked, and she disappeared.

Marcus rinsed his face with cold water and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He felt tired. He would rather fall back into a dream in which this wonderful woman accompanied him, than put on armor and go to a military review.

He felt tired of the constant war he was fighting. The Roman Empire was growing every day. More and more space, more and more people to feed. Meanwhile, the Emperor sat in Rome and reveled in the next ships and carts full of treasures that his generals sent to him. This was not how it should be.

"You carry so much on your shoulders, Marcus. Too much for one man."

You sat on his bed, looking at him with sympathy. You liked talking to Marcus, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. Over this long time, you got to know him so well that you were able to recognize what was bothering him. And lately, many things were turning in his head.

You bit your lip as you allowed yourself to admire his naked body. He was strong, well-built. With broad shoulders, a strong back and long legs. You saw that charming happy trail that led straight to his impressive manhood. Even as a nymph you could feel desire, and you certainly did, looking shamelessly at this man.

As soon as Marcus pulled on his tunic, one of the messengers entered the tent.

"General." he said, bowing his head. "A message from Rome. The Emperor orders you to return. He will welcome you to the city with all the honors befitting a victor."

Acacius took the sealed message from the man's hand and signaled him to leave. Rome seemed so distant to him. However, after so long, it was good to return to civilization again. Although he loved the army, its order and rules, he missed his bed and home. A home that was just walls, because years of war and wandering didn't give him the opportunity to create something more there.

You went up to him and rested your head on his shoulder to read the message brought by the messenger.

"Rome! It's exciting." You said with joy. "There will be triumphal processions and the sound of trumpets. Rose petals falling on you from the sky like rain from the clouds... You, people, love such splendor."

Your hand slowly slid his arm. You felt his skin under your fingers, the small bumps that were traces of the wounds he had sustained. But his warmth was what you liked the most. You could feel it, but you couldn't give it to him.

When he put on the armor, your fingers playfully moved over each element. You liked Medusa's golden face the most, you always felt sympathy and compassion for her. When the sword hung at his side, you moved away, then followed him like an obedient servant.

People always amused you a little. They didn't see you, nymphs, although sometimes they managed to catch your faint reflection. Then they told stories about your beauty and tempting shapes. You knew many stories, good and bad, about what happened to you, and even more of them were unknown to ordinary people.

You had the impression that Marcus had experienced it once. You were a little careless then. Death and destruction made your heart ache, it was enough for his eyes to capture your image. That was the first time you felt his gaze on you, for real. He wasn't looking through you, he wasn't looking over you, but at you. That scared you and you didn't come to see him for the next few days.

"General, the troops are ready for review." reported some captain whose name you couldn't remember.

"I got information today that we are going back to Rome." Marcus said as they walked together along the first row of men. "That's good, people should rest."

"And you will once again receive the honors worthy of a hero of the Empire." the captain smiled. "I even sympathize with you, these meetings in the Emperor's palace must be tiring."

"Sometimes I think that being here is less bothersome than there, Aurelius." Marcus sighed and rubbed his furrowed brows with his hand.

"Did you sleep badly?"

"I don't think so. Only one dream has been bothering me for weeks."

Aurelius looked at his friend carefully. "A good dream, I hope? Full of wine, music and beautiful women, eh?"

Marucs stifled a laugh. "Of course, my friend."

He was lying. You both knew it. For weeks, you had been a guest in his dreams, only the places changed. 

A meadow full of flowers, where a warm wind flowed calmly. Or the seashore, in the abyss of which the sun disappeared, leaving a blood-red hue in the sky. Sometimes it was a bed, but different from the one he fell asleep in.

And you? You were beautiful. Sometimes dressed in a loose toga, sometimes naked. But you always gazed at him with love, whispered tender words, told stories that he thought he had heard before. Maybe when he was a child...

There were nights when he felt your lips on his neck and chest, or your fingers moving through his hair. Then he woke up hard, feeling as if just a moment ago your hand had really caressed him.

He didn't want to tell anyone that he felt watched, because he didn't know how to explain it. However, this feeling was with him almost all the time. Or when he was still half asleep and had the impression that he felt the shadow of a body lying next to him. Was he starting to go crazy?

You spent another day with him. The tent Marcus occupied felt almost like home to you. You sat on the edge of his bathtub as he took a bath, shamelessly watching his naked body glisten in the candlelight.

"I want to see you... Once again..."

His quiet voice tore you from your reverie. You looked at his face. His eyes were closed. You could see the wrinkles around his eyes perfectly, his neck that was perfect for showering with kisses, his arms were spread out on the edges of the bathtub, and his lips moved again.

"I know you're here with me... I can't see you, but I can feel you."

You leaned over him. Your lips were a few inches apart. You could clearly see his long eyelashes, you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I would give everything for one tender look from you..."

You parted your lips slightly and brushed his. It wasn't even a kiss, just a brush. Less than an accidental touch. But Marcus sighed as if his prayers had been answered.

"I guess I should feel embarrassed catching you in such a situation."

A quiet squeal reached your ears. You turned around and put your finger to your lips, but you smiled.

"Shush! He's sleeping." You said reproachfully to the young girl standing in the dark corner of the tent.

She silently approached the bed and leaned over the General with curiosity as if he was some really interesting phenomenon. You sat astride Marcus' hips and for a few hours you had been staring at his sleeping face. He dreamed about you, about both of you. It was a good dream, you were watching over it. You wanted him to rest, so that he wouldn't worry about anything else.

"My Cyrus was younger than him." She stated after thinking for a while.

"And he was a shepherd of sheep!" you laughed, "He's a general."

"Both equally mortal."

Her words momentarily extinguished your smile. It was true. Death was equal for everyone.

"What are you doing here?" you asked to forget for a moment about the separation that awaited you someday. "I thought you didn't like military camps."

"Our lady sent me to you." your friend and sister in one smiled, her eyes sparkling. "But before I tell you her words, tell me, do you really love him?"

You looked again at Marcus' sleeping face. You knew this map by heart. Every gesture, grimace, look. You knew him.

"I've never known love before." you answered truthfully. "But I know I'd like to be able to feel it, you know. Once, for a few moments, he looked into my eyes. It was less than one breath, but I felt like never before... I would give anything to be able to feel it again."

A delicate hand rested on your shoulder. "You've been visiting his thoughts for so long that his heart is directed only towards you. Our lady sees that, and she's the wisest of us all."

"She must be laughing at me, right? Such simple desires and..."

"Don't say that." she interrupted you quickly. "Our lady never does such things. She loves you and Marcus. You both have a special place in her heart."

Your eyes filled with tears. "Thank you." you whispered quietly. "What message do you have for me, love?"

Your friend's face brightened and then she came closer to your ear. She whispered quietly, but you understood every word perfectly. 

"Our lady asks you to live. She wants you to truly live. To feel. To love. To desire. To be seen. Our lady will fulfill your request, sister. Let immortality leave you, leave the body of a nymph and become one of the mortals. Fulfill your destiny."

For a moment you lost your breath, and a strange and disturbing shiver ran through your entire body. You felt a coldness you had never felt before. You saw the face of your dearest sister before you, but it was different, like a cloud of very thick fog.

"We will create myths and sing songs about your love." she said smiling "And when I’m next to you, you will feel me.”

Her lips brushed your temple, and warm tears ran down your cheeks as you closed your eyelids. When you opened them, she was no longer next to you.

For a moment, you tried to understand what had happened. You felt your senses overloaded, everything around you suddenly sharpened and darkened.

And then you felt it. Warm and strong hands tightened tenderly on your thighs, squeezing them gently. A familiar voice rang in your ears like never before.

"You're here... I can finally see you."

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[PART 2]

taglist: @ashleyfilm

[anabdaniels]

Pros of re-reading your own fic

a good time;

Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;

Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;

just a very fun time all around.

Cons of re-reading your own fic:

Is that another TYpO

[anabdaniels]

I urgently need to go back to write Piece by Piece 'cause that's one of my main plots with it.

You know what I think its grossly under-rated in fandom? Second loves.

What it's like to love and lose and then love again. To suffer through either the death of a loved one or the death of a love you used to share. To know that loss, to know that hurt, and to still make yourself vulnerable to someone again. To love scared, to love wounded, to love anyway.

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 21: Virginity

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Word counting: 2.1k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Established relationship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, Jack and his corny flirt.

A/N: Yes, I'm horribly late, but things happened, including my computer screen deciding to unalive itself, so writing has been an adventure since my phone's life isn't the best either, but we'll pretend everything is fine.

Main Masterlist | Cowboytober Masterlist

All of that felt like a daydream.

Your perfect wedding dress was used in your perfect wedding with your perfect cowboy. You couldn't want anything else.

Well, there was one thing.

You'd do anything to magically skip that night and wake up the next morning with everything "solved".

Not that you didn't want to finally find out if your dirty thoughts and dreams would be good in real life either, not to mention how many times you thought about how it would feel to be that close to Jack. The thing is that you were terrified about it, especially when you knew that Jack had vast experience on the matter.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He asked while caressing your back, noticing you seemed lost in your thoughts.

"I think I'm just nervous." You admitted while feeling your face heating.

"Darlin'..." Jack chuckled and pulled you closer into his lap, kissing your forehead. "Lemme remind you that we have no rush, and if you don't feel like it, we don't have to do anything tonight." He assured you calmly, and you knew he meant it. After all, he had waited with no problem from the day you met a few months before until the wedding.

It wasn't exactly the plan. As things got steady between the two of you, you imagined it would happen at some moment, but then Jack proposed. The two of you got engaged, and having the wedding so near, you thought it could wait until you two got married, and Jack agreed. When finally, you two were officially and legally a couple, you realized you had nowhere to run and would have to face your hesitations and insecurities.

"I want to." You said after a moment "I just need a bit of time to process everything."

"Comprehensible." Jack nodded and pressed a kiss on your shoulder "Well, we have all night." He reminded warmly and it was true. You two had just come from the wedding party and were unworriedly drinking another bottle of sparkling wine after a relaxing fresh shower. There was no rush at all.

"Did I become your squishing toy?" Jack asked with a chuckle while observing you mounted on him while randomly groping his arms and stomach.

"Yes." You confirmed with a smile, a little relaxed by the alcohol, but far from being drunk.

"I'll not be the one spoiling your fun." He smiled and let his hands fall on the mattress, observing you.

Lead by your curiosity and taking courage from the alcohol you leaned forward, nuzzling your face on the curve of his neck, sinking in the warm feel of his bare torso and softening when he wrapped his arms around you, catching you off guard when he rolled on the bed with you, laying sideways with his face close of yours with a playful smirk as his hand softly rubbed your back, giving you a soft shiver.

“Think I’m at ease enough.” You said quietly, feeling a slight heat over your body. Jack caught what you meant and pressed a soft kiss on your temple, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Do you want to get in charge to set the pace?” he asked, softly caressing your back.

“Definitely not.” You answered without thinking twice "I feel that I'll enjoy being the bottom part." You admitted with a chuckle and flushed cheeks.

"We're already finding out our tastes, hum?" Jack smiled, proud of you feeling at ease to tell what you wanted.

With no rush, he pressed a kiss on your lips, one hand cupping the back of your neck and lightly tangling in your hair, as his other hand trailed fingertips over your collarbone, sliding the strap of your nightgown down then cupping the swell of your breasts.

Your nipples pebbled under his soft touch, taking a sight out of you. Leaning in, Jack captured one bud between his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue causing you to gasp and arch into him.

While lavishing attention on your breasts, his hand wandered lower, slipping under your nightgown to cup your mound, a finger circling your clit teasingly, confirming his suspicions that you already were wet.

"We're gonna make this more interesting." Jack said quietly against your skin, pressing a kiss on your nipple, his fingers continued to stroke and tease you after he got rid of your nightgown, and then he started to trail kisses down your body.

Jack softly turned you to lay on your back on the bed, kissing a path on your inner thigh until he reached your core. With no reservations, he buried his head between your legs, savoring your taste slowly to give you a moment to get used to it before he started to feast upon your pussy like a starving man. His tongue was more than enough to have you contorting and whining, trying to process how good it could feel while your hips started to shamelessly move against his face. Jack gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he kept his disturbing pace, loving your responsiveness to his every move.

Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he sucked hard on your clit as two of his fingers boldly slid inside you, lowkey surprising you at how smoothly they fit into you.

Despite your attempts to enjoy all that a bit longer, it was too much at once, Jack's fingers softly kneading the skin of your thigh, his fingers being way too precise on where to press and rub inside you, and his mouth making you feel things that were almost too good to be true.

Having no much more options, you came apart, lightly squeezing Jack's head between your thighs as you gripped the bed sheets. Jack continued to lap at you through your orgasm, prolonging the intense sensations until you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress.

Calmly, Jack crawled up your body, pressing tender kisses to your flushed skin as he moved. When he reached your lips, he kissed you softly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, which you found unexplainably arousing.

 "Are we alright?" he asked in a whisper against your lips, smiling as you nodded eagerly "Then I'm going to make love to my beautiful bride." He said with a goofy smile and a silly tone, smiling wider as you laughed and shook your head.

"Daniels…" You playfully slapped his bicep, despite starting to feel eager for him to actually do it.

"Okay, okay, I'll collect myself." He chuckled and pressed another kiss on your lips before pulling back to get rid of his sweatpants, not surprising you with the absence of underwear.

Jack positioned himself between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. He looked into your eyes, his expression soft with love and desire.

"Remember, if anything hurts, tell me to stop immediately."  he said reassuringly, caressing your side. After your nod, he began to slowly push forward, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

Inch by inch, Jack entered you, not moving at first so you could get comfortable with it. Though there was a minor sensation that felt like a sting at the first moment, the feeling of fullness turned into something interesting as you relaxed, being far from the disaster people always told you it would be.

"You're okay, honeybee?" He asked caressing your waist, bracing himself in one elbow.

"More than I expected actually." You confirmed with a nervous laugh "I just have no idea of how to proceed from here." You admitted.

"Don't worry, my love." Jack assured you, softly pressing his forehead against yours "Your husband will take care of everything." Once again, he spoke in that corny tone, wanting to relax you, and it worked damn well. His corny and goofy flirting was always efficient in making you laugh and get at ease, and it was all that you needed at that moment, feel calm and at ease as if it wasn't the first time you were in such a situation.

"Alright, Sir Expert on the matter, I'll let you." You answered with a chuckle, hanging your arms around his neck.

“You’ll not regret it.” He winked with that smug smirk before pressing his lips against yours.

With no rush at all, Jack moved at a calm consistent pace while peppered your face and neck with soft kisses as he made love to you, whispering sweet nothings and declarations of his adoration and love for you, assuring you even more that waiting until the wedding night was the best choice you could've made. Not that you expected things to go wrong if it happened before, but something about it taking place after the two of you had shared your vows and made your relationship official and consolidated made your heart warm and your body needier than ever.

“Jack?” you called quietly, only then realizing that your nails were deeply sunk on his shoulder.

“Tell me, honey?” Jack looked up at you with that charming smirk.

“Well, I…” you flinched a bit, feeling your face burning, trying to wonder how to ask what you were thinking “I was just wondering how it would feel with a bit more… Energy, if it can be said like this.”

“Oh, I got very well what you want, sugar.” With a smooth move, Jack flipped you to lay into your stomach, placing a pillow under your hips, and settling between your legs. “Tell me if it gets too much, dear.”

After an emphatical nod, you had to squeeze the nearest pillow as your body contorted, the new angle and pace already taking a place as your favorite ones, giving you no room to do better than whimper and arch your back as your body clenched around him, intensifying the sensations.

“Jack…” you called in a whine, turning your head slightly, searching for him.

“Shhh, gotcha, honeybee.” Jack soothed you, letting his chest press against your back and kissing your temple, as he sneakily moved a hand under your body until he reached between your legs, rhythmically rubbing your clit, adding a lot to the whole experience; yes, you had touched yourself every here and there during your life, but that feeling joined with all the rest was too much to bear.

“Shit… I think I’m gonna…” you mumbled in a slurred way, moaning louder and contorting abruptly, feeling your body sinking in the overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s the goal, my love.” Jack whispered teasingly against your ear, nibbling at your neck “Your responsiveness ain’t doin’ my self-control any favor.”

“Don’t make my dirty thoughts worse, cowboy.” You said with a bated breath, actually wanting him to feed your thoughts.

“Fine, I’ll stop. Just a last question, if I can.” With that devious smirk, he turned your head slightly to the side to look deep into your eyes “Where do you want it?” you frowned slightly, taking a moment to process what he meant and chewing on your lip as you got the message.

“Inside.” You answered with no second thoughts, involuntarily squeezing tightly around him just with the thought of it.

“Wonderful choice.” Jack leaned to kiss you, keeping his steady intense pace and his fingers working on your clit, taking the last crumb of your sanity as you fell apart, whining, contorting, and smashing pillows, being taken by probably the best orgasm you ever felt. Not fighting his body’s urges, Jack allowed his release to take over, taking a cried moan of you at the very moment your cervix was warmly flooded by every drop of him, causing you sensations you could never imagine even on your best obscene dreams.

Avoiding letting his weight fall on you, Jack rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss into your forehead. You didn’t flinch to get tucked into his chest, a silly smile on your face as you tried to put yourself together, still processing that all of that was truth.

“I would’ve liked a warning.” You said quietly, looking up at him in a lazy manner.

“What you mean, honey?” Jack questioned confused, caressing your hair.

“You could’ve told me I’d be unable to think or move my legs.” You raised your eyebrows, chuckling.

“My bad.” He laughed and brushed your cheek, leaning to nuzzle his nose against yours “If serves as a further warning, this probably not gonna be the best one.”

“You’re telling me it gets better?” you questioned slightly disbelieving.

“Much better if you ask me.” Jack winked at you cynically, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“We’ll have to work on that.” You answered with a quiet laugh, settling your head on his arm, already thinking about how far that could go.

Tagging: @missladym1981 @alex-does-art-things @beefrobeefcal

[anabdaniels]

“I had impure thoughts about Pedro Pascal again”….”also I broke another vibrator “. (from Man On The Inside)

[anabdaniels]

RIDLEY SCOTT WHEN I GET YOU

It happened ladies and gentlemen, I've just watched Gladiator II, and will take me 3-5 working days to process and recover from it.

I was expecting less of it to be honest and now I don't know how to deal with all the information I've received.

AND AS FOR DEAR ACACIUS IF I LOVED HIM EVEN BEFORE THE MOVIE, NOW I'M EVEN MORE DOWN FOR THIS MAN

And as I already expected, I fell in love with Geta and Caracalla, they're iconic.

[anabdaniels]

Caracalla: anyway as I was saying, as an only child I-

Marcus: wait, but you're not an only child

Caracalla: ...I'm working on it

[anabdaniels]

This is me. Kinda jealous of all the writers who can write quickly because I can't.

[anabdaniels]

"To spend time with my wife" MARCUS ACACIUS WHEN I GET YOU

"Persia. India. Both must be conquered."

[anabdaniels]

Thank God for this clip, AGAIN.

[anabdaniels]

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 23- Cheating

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader x Javier Peña

Word counting: 2.3k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, established relationship, reader speaks Spanish (translations at the end) unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), reader and Jack are two little bitches with no much morals.

A/N: Javier Peña girlies please don't hate me for this, I know dear boy Peña deserve better.

Main Masterlist | Cowboytober Masterlist

You hated those stupid parties—not the party itself, but the fact that your husband would spend his whole time working and getting stressed, giving you free time enough to remember how long it had been since the last time the two of you had a real parting time or an actual date.

“Those guys are unbelievable.” Javier grumbled while approaching you with a dose of whiskey.

“Are you done with the interrogation?” you questioned exasperated, hoping to have at least a bit of fun with him, and sighing when he shook his head.

“There’s a lot of people here that may know important information, I have to take the chance.” He explained while rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip.

“¿En serio, Javi?” you pulled out the Spanish, not wanting anyone around staring at the scene “Es una puta noche de sábado.” you rolled your eyes, taking a long sip of your sparkling wine.

“Corazón, por favor…” Javier sighed and leaned closer to you “Esta es una buena oportunidad que no la puedo desperdiciar, además…”

“Vale.” You didn’t wait for him to finish the explanation, quite done with all that “Voy a buscar alguna manera de soportar el aburrimiento.” You sighed in frustration and walked away, changing your glass for a full one when the waiter passing by offered and kept walking, looking around to distract yourself, only looking back to what was in front of you when you felt your shoulder stumbling in someone.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The man apologized with a warm tone and sympathetic smile.

“Oh no, it was my bad for not looking at my way.” You recognized with a soft smile “Got caught by the ambience.”

“May I assume you’re enjoying the party then?” he asked slightly raising one eyebrow.

“I think so. And the buzz is everything people talk about.” You said raising your glass slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you have good opinions of our product and environment. “

“So, you’re part of the business.” You tilted your head slightly, interested in the matter.

“Well, where are my manners?” he chuckled and took off the Stetson hat “Jack Daniels, chief executive officer of Statesman & Co. at your disposal.” He said in a politer tone with a soft nod, making you smile involuntarily before telling him your name.

“I’m quite embarrassed to get to meet the CEO of the company hosting the party after almost spilling a whole glass of drink on him.” You joked despite being true.

“Don’t be.” He spoke while putting his hat back “These are generally the ones that end better.”

“You might be right; I wasn’t having much fun ‘till now.” You admitted while the two of you started to walk around the room.

“Now you made me curious.” Jack kept his attention on you, interested in what would be your answer.

“Let’s say that my companion is more interested in useless gossip than making me company.”

“Their absolute loss. A good party with such a gracious company it’s the best thing that could happen to someone on a Saturday night.” He said naturally with a slight smirk, making you chuckle and look at him.

“Where’s your company then?”

“I wish I could’ve one, I mean, I was lowkey running away from the work when we stumbled, y’know these are more like a job meeting with some buzz. I’d let my company planted in the same place all night,” he admitted sincerely, making you laugh quietly at the irony of the situation.

“I wish my husband had such a perception.” You vented involuntarily.

“So, he’s the one who left you to gossip around?” Jack concluded easily, getting even more interested as you nodded “Well then, I think we have something to improve this party for both of us.” He said with an inviting tone, reaching out a hand to you. Not caring about anything else, you accepted the offer, letting him take you wherever he was planning to. The two of you walked through a corridor, entering a room with built-in shelves filled with bottles of all kinds of drinks that, even not being a big connoisseur of the matter, you knew were expensive.

“I could enjoy a sincere friendship with someone who has access to this kinda stuff.” You joked while making yourself comfortable on the couch near the big windows.

“Just to let you know, I’m available.” Jack answered with a chuckle while getting a bottle of sparkling wine and two glasses, moving to sit near you.

“I’ll remember that.” You answered before finishing the drink on the glass you brought and letting it sit on the coffee table. Jack shook his head with a smile and opened the bottle, filling both glasses and handing one to you. You smiled before taking the first sip, looking at Jack with a surprised frown. “This one is somehow even better than the party one.”

“Precisely why I chose it.” He admitted with a smirk. You smiled and looked away when your phone started to vibrate, making you sigh before declining the call. “Something wrong?”

“Just my husband.” You answered frustrated and leaned back on the sofa.

“And you don’t seem pleased about it.” He pointed sincerely, observing you.

“And I’m not. I’m tired of being put aside because of work, but still don’t want to leave him.” You shrugged.

“Seems like a fair union then.” Jack stated making you laugh and look at him.

“You’re sounding way too judgmental for someone not caring about being in a quite discussable scenario with a married woman.” You pointed with a slightly sarcastic tone.

“If you do not care about being married, why should I?” he retorted with a smirk, letting you in a mix of shock and satisfaction.

“You might have a point.” You let your glass sit on the coffee table and crawled to mount on his lap “So I think we can ignore it together.” You said calmly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now that’s an idea.” Jack agreed with a husky tone, leaning to kiss your neck while putting his glass away either and grabbing your waist. Both of you stopped before anything else as your phone started to buzz again.

“Fuck…” you rolled your eyes and put your phone on airplane mode before turning back to Jack “We’ll have to be quick.”

“Almost sounds like a challenge.” He joked while squeezing your hips.

“If it’ll give you motivation…” you chuckled while sliding your hands under his blazer, groping his torso softly.

“Let’s see what we can do.” He leaned forward and kissed you, one hand going to your back to open the first half of your dress’ zipper, easing the fabric so he could sneak his hands into it to grab your breasts.

Forgetting about the whole scenario for a moment, you melted on his lap, sinking your fingers in his torso and squirming softly as he went further, teasing your nipples and going down to nibble your jaw and kiss your neck.

Letting your anticipation and eagerness take the best of your self-control, you moved your hands to undo Jack’s belt and unzip his jeans, taking his hardened cock into your hand, softly squeezing and stroking it, feeling unfairly desperate to have it inside you. Noticing your desperation to release the length of your dress from under your legs to lift it, Jack promptly directed his hands to help you roll it up, chuckling as he realized you had nothing under it.

“This only gets better hum?” he teased and softly nibbled your chin.

“In my defense, it would mark under the dress.” You chuckled too while settling yourself better on his lap.

“Let’s pretend this is true.” He mumbled against your skin, wrapping one arm around your waist as he moved your body down, burying himself to the hilt inside you, taking a unison moan from the two of you.

“Oh, c’mon…” you whined with your forehead resting against his when Jack moved his fingers to between your legs steadily rubbing on your clit.

“You said our time is short, I’m using the resources I have.”

You would’ve retorted, but it was all too much; the adrenaline, the awareness that it was a mistake, feeling wanted for the first time in weeks, you could only concentrate on the moment and try to enjoy every second of it, which wasn’t a difficult task while being so well fucked. Your hands gripped Jack’s shoulders to keep your balance as your hips instinctively moved against his, the junction of the moving from both of you making it feel like heaven.

Jack wrapped one hand in your neck and pulled you closer, kissing you to silence your increasing moans as he picked up the pace at the very moment he felt your muscles starting to slightly spasm around his cock. Despite wanting to make it last, you also were unable to do it, once it had been a considerable time since your needs had been met, after all, the unmeasurable amounts of stress Javier lived under didn’t make any favor to your bedroom life in general, yes, there was those days when he would get rid of his frustration by fuck you, but when it was just average annoyance, you knew nothing would happen. You didn’t try to fight that feeling growing in your womb, wrapping your fingers on Jack’s collar as you melted on his lap, doing the best you could to keep your noises under control as you leaned to hide your face on the curve of his neck, trying to put yourself together.

“You’re okay, dear?” Jack asked quietly, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

“Yes.” You answered still panting a bit while straightening yourself to look at him “Just not quite feeling my thighs, but fine.” You smiled when Jack chuckled and cupped your face.

“C’mon, you’re telling me that just this is enough to destabilize you?” he teased while brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“You’d be shocked with what need can do to someone.” You joked despite being true “But I fear we’re ain’t done yet.” You didn’t give him time to question what were your plans, dismounting from his lap and kneeling on the floor between his legs “You’re such a hospitable host, only fair to be properly thanked for it.” You leaned in, running your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. The salty taste of his pre-cum mixed with your juices, making your mouth water for more. Wrapping your lips around the head, you began to suck gently, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip.

“Shit, darlin’…” Jack's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements. You hummed around him, the vibration giving him a slight shiver. You concentrated in bob your head, setting a steady rhythm as you sucked and licked him, eager for the taste of his release. Jack's grip tightened, his breath growing irregular.

You could only increase your efforts, determined to bring him to the limit, daring to move your free hand to cup and massage his balls, wondering if it would add to the experience.

"Fuck, you’re being unfair here. I’m gonna fill this pretty mouth of yours.” he warned, giving you the chance to pull away, but you didn't, instead keeping your consistent work on him. With a husky groan, Jack got to his limit, his hot seed shooting directly on your tongue and the back of your throat and you made sure to swallow it greedily.

Jack fell backward against the backrest of the sofa, chest moving up and down. You released him with a soft pop, licking your lips and smiling smugly while you sat next to him, wondering how you’d act naturally after what just happened.

After a couple of minutes, the two of you were able to think clearly once again, starting to fix the “damages”, helping each other to align your clothes back in place, then it took another couple of minutes to clean all your burgundy lipstick from Jack’s lips.

“Your business partners must be wondering where you are.” You said jokingly while checking if your makeup and hair were well retouched on your phone’s camera.

“They’re probably way too drunk by now to notice I’ve left.” He answered in the same tone as he finished aligning his tie.

“Hope you’re right.” You chuckled and shook your head.

“Before I forgot…” Jack calmly handed his phone to you, already unlocked on the “create a contact” screen.

“You’re quite bold, hum?” you laughed and shook your head while saving your number on his contacts.

No much later, the two of you left the room, walking calmly through the corridor while still talking, distracted to the point you only noticed Javier approaching you two when he was just a couple of steps away.

“Where have you been? I called you a hundred times.” Javier sounded truly concerned.

“I got lost on my way to the restroom and my signal is a bit shitty here.” You lied without even blinking, sounding quite convincing and hoping he wouldn’t ask anything else.

“Hi, Peña” Jack greeted with a smug grin, making you wonder what was the situation between the two of them.

“Hi, Daniels.” Javier also didn’t sound very pleased with Jack’s presence, everything only making you more tense.

“Well, we’re going, right?” you broke the tense silence and Javier nodded slightly “Great. Bye, Jack, was an amazing party.” You smiled politely and turned to leave, but Javier softly held your elbow.

“Wait, since when do you know each other?” usually Javier would try to figure out such answers by himself, but all that was way too weird for his taste, and the suspicion in the back of his mind was only growing bigger.

“I found her lost on the corridor, just doin’ my job to keep my guests comfortable.” Jack said cynically and if you didn’t know the truth, you’d believe in his version.

“Hum.” Javier didn’t seem convinced while looking at both of you and slightly twitching his jaw.

“Let’s go, Javi. I’m tired.” You said while entangling your arm on his and pulling him with you, aware that you might be in trouble but choosing to ignore it.

Translations: “Really, Javi? It's a fucking Saturday night." "Love, please... This is a good opportunity that I can't waste, besides…" "Okay. I'm going to find some way to endure the boredom."

Tagging: @missladym1981 @alex-does-art-things @beefrobeefcal