#Roman: I am your son
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masquenoire · 1 year ago
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How did the model react to Roman retaliating against his parents? How did he handle that?
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Circe loved it, though didn't openly show her joy when Roman fought back. The two had been having a secret relationship for years right under the noses of his parents, back when Circe was old enough to begin work as a model and Roman still a young teenager smitten with the first positive attention somebody gave him. She held Roman back from beating his parents to a bloody pulp, knowing that being convicted of murder would result in him being heavily punished by the law therefore losing Janus Comestics since his parents were still the owners of the company. It wasn't out of love or concern for Mr and Mrs. Sionis. Circe been working on wrapping Roman around her little finger for years, knowing his parents would one day replace her with a younger, fresher star once her looks began to fade. Beauty doesn't last forever and, in the world of fashion, there are always beautiful women to be found much like one would find plenty of fish in the sea. She loved the money and fame, the ease of her work in only needing to look beautiful to keep a healthy paycheck coming in. She knew it wouldn't last forever, but it could last longer perhaps, if Roman took over Janus Cosmetics and she became his partner. Circe pretended she was remorseful after the incident, that she'd end the relationship with their son once she had seen him out. Unable to bear losing their top model just yet, Mr. and Mrs. Sionis bought her lies and it was all Circe needed to enact the next stage of her plan. Roman hated his parents, she'd known for years but that night, his willingness to acquiesce to her words was the sign she needed to know he'd go to any lengths to please her and concocted a plan with him the morning after. The next night, the family home of the Sionis's burned down with his parents somehow having become trapped in the blaze. Smoke inhalation was thought to be the cause of their deaths, although their bodies had been burned too badly by the fire for pathologists to tell for certain. Circe provided Roman with an alibi and, although he had not been officially named as heir, ownership of Janus Cosmetics fell to him anyway due to being next of kin, a legal process that would be finalized by the time he was 18. Circe was very pleased with how everything had turned out, and while perhaps it happened a little sooner than she'd have liked, everything went according to plan, at least for a few more years until trouble hit Janus Cosmetics.
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 months ago
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yOu'Re gOiNg fOr a LiTeR? | "Habs react to Quebec Maple facts", 10.22.24
#guys this is not becoming a regular thing this is just the mental illinois breaking through but ALSO I SAW THIS AND SCREAMEDDDDD#they did this For Me. those are all my guys. like yes yes we know about xhekovský but that’s my adopted austrian son david reinbacher!!!#that’s my baby goalie carey price time travel cowboy son cayden primeau!!!! and i just LOVE that they were like#‘yeah so one of them is gonna be a bitch in both pairs. & yeah we’re gonna make them lose.’ & i am HERE for it. you know the media day vid#where they asked all of them who was brat on the team and like 75% said slaf which we all KNEW? yes. correct. even more evidence godddd#also empathize so much with him because i hate feeling stupid & he is notably like. a very smart guy w/good awareness of broader society#and sorry to get like this on a silly little post i’m about to fanfiction-ify before i have xhekovský hours but so much of this goes back#to the xenophobia in the nhl and how we treat players (not only that. people in north am/west tbh) whose first language is not english#and degrade/discredit them and their intelligence by virtue of their multilingualism and how we even think about multilingualism as a whole#e.g. the sense that certain languages are perceived as more ‘valuable’ capital/the support that SHOULD be there for language learning simpl#is not from what i can tell in the nhl so even if you wanted to foster an environment of intercultural competency they’re doing nothing to#support it. the stories!! of so many guys! reliant solely upon their teammates for basic necessities! WHERE is your language acquisition#programming. sorry the linguistics language and culture attempted to jump out there & i am not conveying what i want to say at ALL. anyway#juraj's slow descent into madness as u can SEE him visibly getting more & more over it & done is my roman empire. like he's having fun#at first he's laughing 'what is this whiskey?' & i AM thinking that toothy little grin at arber with the jerkoff hand motion about the mapl#syrup only taking a few minutes to come (out) was a dig. lord knows arber deserved it with his shorts pulled all the way up like GOD the me#you put here to wear slutty little 3" shorts live in cold CANADA and have to cover up their thigh tattoos. what a travesty. and the amount#of THIGH in this video i- biting. arber's hairy legs slaf's manspreading more as he gets frustrated & arber teases him i. and DAVID????#on a completely different note cayden with his face covered is giving me INTENSE brainworms i have the most unhinged storylines for him#AND THE BRYNDZOVE HALUSKYYYY everything past 2:00 is gold. david's tired sighs. slaf hating it here. arber having the time of his life#'taste' 'that's not an advantage' DAVID kill him. 'maple syrup specialist... normal guy 🤷' slaf you are the WORST loser and ily for it#arber defending his wife w/his life... juraj's the smartest guy in the room & arber's on his leash about it. it goes both ways (to be cont)#juraj slafkovský#arber xhekaj#david reinbacher#cayden primeau#montreal canadiens#i'm xhekovský posting leave me alone i'm also *****
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cryobabiess · 24 days ago
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girldad!geta pleeease!
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Filia Divina
Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader
Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny
AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!
It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.
The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.
“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.
“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.
Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.
“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.
Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“
Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.
“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.
“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”
Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.
“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.
In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay, exhausted and perspiring, like a holy monument.
“Show me the child.”
“My love, I beg you—“
“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.
You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.
“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.
“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.
To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.
You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.
“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.
“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.
Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.
“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.
“She will have my name! It is done.”
As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.
“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”
You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.
“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”
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munsonmuses · 6 months ago
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Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader
Warnings: smut, gladiatorial combat, animalistic tendencies, uhhhg there’s a breeding kink. This was not proofread.
Word Count: 2.3k
Authors Comments: Iiiii was a major Roman Empire nerd as a kid, so if there’s stuff you’re like “that seemed specific” about? I promise you the research was done and I had to consult my notebooks from when I was a teeny tot (like a young teen). And yes, thumbs up signified death because it represented an upturned sword for combat, and the thumbs down signified sparing the loser, by turning your sword down to sheath
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The light fabric of the linen chiton you wore felt like chains, the beautiful gold brooches holding it in place and the belt that rested low on your waist like the shackles. Leading you to a life you’d never wanted. To a future you knew you’d loathe so deeply. This wasn’t the life you’d dreamt of as a young woman. Bringing peace to an empire, marrying a man who was made perfectly for you by the gods.
All of these opportunities had been ripped from between your fingers. Your life slipped away the moment you’d heard that Emperor Geta had set his sights on you. He was callous, pompous, the human equivalent of a promenading lion. He thought nothing but the best of himself, and believed he deserved things equally as good. One of those things being you.
Your finger delicately worked on adjusting the raw leather straps of your sandals. The stephane felt like it was weighting your whole body down, veil swishing against your nape, sending chills down your spine. That the earth may swallow you whole in one fell motion was a wishful thought as you carefully examined the large hall.
It was egregious, how much gold one man could have. How many statues of himself an individual could bare to own. Slowly standing from the large chaise you’d been guided too and approaching one. tracing the curve of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. The manic look they’d managed to capture in his marble portrait, captured perfectly within the massive pupils. Scoffing lightly before hearing a laugh from behind you that caused your skin to pebble viciously. Turning around to face him.
The statue somehow didn’t manage to perfectly capture his mania. Pupils so wide they looked almost entirely black. A wolfish grin. His entire body reeked of need and want.
“You, are even more beautiful than Caracalla described…just look at you-“ his hands clamped down on your upper arms. Holding you in place as he hummed. “You’ll do nicely…” he murmured as you quirked a brow lightly.
You prayed that when you asked, he’d give you a different answer than what you’d been prepared for. Not wanting to surrender yourself to matrimony with a man so viciously bloodthirsty and self righteous. “What will I do nicely for, imperator?” You whispered as he let his eyes glaze over your body. Taking in every inch of you before nodding.
“Don’t be silly, you know what I brought you here for. I have chosen you to be my empress. Not Caracalla’s. Strictly my own.” He insisted as he moved a hand up to grip your jaw while humming. “You’ll take to the role with pride. A loving and affectionate empress…and you’ll give me my sons to lead the future of my empire once my time has come. Am I understood?” He questioned as you scoffed lightly to yourself. Fixing your rings and pulling away. Pacing the large floor of the hall as he kept his eyes on you. Ready to pounce if necessary.
“I am marrying you strictly for familial agreement. Through my loyalty for my empire and my dedication to my familial name…it has nothing to do with you.” You murmured as he sucked on his teeth lightly. You weren’t afraid of him, you saw yourself as an independent being, even a possible equal. An equal amount of hatred that matched his levels of obsession. Overall, he was clearly agitated by your lack of throwing yourself at him, the need for you to desperately present yourself to him. Though he wouldn’t push it. To get you out from under Caracalla’s thumb was difficult enough, so he’d take what he could get.
“Your chambers are prepared, you’ll be dressed for our wedding and you’ll smile. You’ll be grateful.” He ordered as you nodded, allowing the two women by the doorway to follow you out as you sighed in frustration to yourself.
These women were terrified to touch you, though they attempted to feebly conceal their terror as you hummed. Hair carefully arranged with an orange veil placed atop. Slipping into the white woven fabric of your wedding tunic, and slipped on orange sandals. Careful with them as you worked on fastening the knot of Hercules around your waist. Nodding slowly as you assessed yourself in the mirror.
It felt like lead lined your stomach as you approached the large garden, eyes meeting with Geta’s own. Your family and his court clearly anxiously awaiting your arrival. Your dowry had been exchanged, and Geta grinned delightedly at the sight of you approaching. Wringing his fingers, rings loudly knocking together as you frowned in mild fury. He was childish and cocky and self absorbed, albeit a bit handsome.
You stopped in front of him as the two of you read over the marriage contract. His eyes constantly flicking up to you as you lifted your metal pen from the inkwell. Scrawling your name with confidence as he followed suit. His hand suddenly clutching your left wrist as your head whipped to look at him. Geta removing the thick red stoned ring upon one of his fingers and slipping it onto one of your own as he hummed contentedly. Clearly awaiting reciprocation for his affections.
You carefully took his face, pressing a pursed lip kiss to his own plush pink lips as he cradled the back of your head and your waist. Satisfied with his win. Cementing your future with your new husband, as empress.
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Your wedding was a few months ago, and in that time you’d been growing to know, like, and even love Geta. Although shrouded in cruel mystery, he did have a tender heart when it came to you. Gifting you lavishly, bathing you in riches and praise. You’d never gone to bed on an empty stomach, and you managed to share romantic pleasantries with him regularly.
You sat beside him as you watched a battle in the coliseum. Head perched on your fist in boredom as he smiled wide at you. The folds of your brooches and adornments complimenting the rich purples of your own robes. Your stephane crooked as his hand delicately reached up to adjust it. “Isn’t this delightful my heart?” He whispered eagerly as you scoffed in light amusement. Grinning lightly at him as you kissed his rings lightly.
“It’s alright. Gladiator fights have never…settled my nerves. If anything the bloodsport terrifies me…” you murmured as his own lips pulled into a tight frown. Though unlike usual, he didn’t have a smart or cold comment to make.
You carefully watched the two men fight, though you could barely call them that. Barely older than sixteen a piece as you chewed on your lip. The larger of the two slamming his sword into the smaller boys shield. Reminding you of the kind boys you’d known in your youth who had the whole world in front of them, stolen in war. Your heart heavy at the sight.
Geta’s eyes were trained on you. Noticing the paleness in your face, watering eyes as you left your chair to look over the edge of the balcony at these boys. Heart pounding in your ears as he sighed. He was furious, he was angry…love had “weakened” him, was what Caracalla had lamented before. But in his eyes, it simply made him better for you. Being weak for one’s own wife was impossible.
Your head whipped to look at him as the smaller boy was bloodied and bruised. Whipped to the ground by his foe as Geta stood slowly for the crowd to see.
He lifted his hand slowly, glancing over at you as his thumb rested on its side. He would typically give a thumbs up, signaling the death of the weaker boy…but instead his thumb dropped. The crowd gasping at the young man being spared at the Emperors command.
Geta’s eyes flicked to you one last time. Seeing nothing but adoration in them as he dismissed his co-contributors frustrated muttering, walking off with you to your shared chambers as he hummed in your ear.
“You’re welcome…” he whispered as you rolled your eyes lightly at him. Kissing his cheek lightly as you closed the large doors behind yourself.
With your back to him, you slowly worked on unhooking the brooches of your chiton, letting the fabric pool at your feet as you worked on removing your sandals slowly. Hearing his movements stop, eyes on you as you grinned lightly over your shoulder.
“You have shown such monumental growth…and kindness…and change, my emperor…” you whispered as you stalked towards him. His breath shaky and heavy as he carefully nodded. “I am so amazed by you…” you murmured as he watched your hands making work of the fasteners on his own tunic. It slipping down his shoulders as you smiled.
“I want…to reward you,” you murmured into his ear. Geta was a man who worked on praise, adoration and reward. He needed something for every “accomplishment” he made. This time you’d give him something more.
He let himself be lied back on your massive bed, his cock slowly hardening. Pressed to his stomach. Cheeks and chest flushed as you hummed lightly to yourself. He deserved this, even if it was simple human decency…it was a major turning point for him.
You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. Lightly nipping at his flushed skin as you worked lower and lower. Pressing kisses down his stomach and licking along the light indentations of his abs before finally paying attention to his desperate cock.
Already twitching lightly, Geta was not a hard man to work up. Lightly pressing warm, open mouthed kisses along his shaft. Tenderly massaging his balls as he whimpered lightly at your ministrations. Following your movements with frantic eyes.
He shivered lightly as he felt your lips lightly wrap around his tip. Lazily sucking and stroking the rest of his shaft lightly. Having used your kisses from earlier as a bit of lubrication. Stroking in time with your slowly bobbing head. Every few moments getting lower and lower. Relishing on the velvety feeling of his thick cock against your tongue. Finally taking your hand away and placing it on his hip. The other taking his right hand and leading it to the back of your head as he trembled lightly. “My heart…please-“ his whisper wasn’t much more than a breath.
The lewd noises of you taking him deep down your throat, slowly sucking while hollowing out your cheeks. Obediently tending to his needs as you groaned desperately against him. Your free hand trailing downward to massage your own clit as he bucked his hips lightly.
“You tease me…” he growled out. “With your desperate hands, your heavenly mouth, your body on full display…you tear me into nothing but tatters of a man…and you relish in my desperation,” he hissed as you pulled your head off.
Stroking his cock lightly as you maintained eye contact with him. Your own blown out with need and want as you continued to tend to your own clit. Sensitive bud twitching under your small, circular motions. Geta’s eyes trained on simply you. Filled with nothing but love and obsession as he growled.
Taking your wrists firmly, he pulled your hands away from both of your own sensitive bodies. Working on lying you back as he pressed his lips to your ear. “You’re a temptress…and you’ll understand just how deeply I want for you…and you’ll give me my sons,” he hissed as he worked one of your legs up around his waist. Keeping one hand on your wrists, pinned above your head as he lined himself up with your wanting cunt. Slowly easing himself into you.
You could feel every vein, every curve. A desperate moan being ripped from you as you arched your back lightly. Geta’s soft laugh and heaving breaths the only other noise you could focus on. His mouth greedily kissing along your soft skin. Nipping at your shoulders and neck. Trailing down to your breasts. Lightly taking your left nipple between his teeth. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud while lazily rolling his hips. Breeding you on his terms.
“Fucking…mnghhh…you’re so good~” he mumbled between mouthfuls of greedy kisses. His thrusts short and swift. Though deep enough to give that knot in your stomach a bit of reprieve. Humming contentedly to himself as he watched your lust clouded eyes. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to do much once im finished…” he murmured as he began to focus on his thrusts.
Deep and swift, pressing deep into your twitching cunt, your wrists finally free of his grasp as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Holding him close as he fucked deeper into you. “It’s a blessing, to get to carry the future of our empire. Thank me for blessing you…” he growled out as he held your hips firmly. Your moans in time with his thrusts as you struggled to form a single coherent thought.
“Fuck!…thank you, for allow-…allowing me to carry your heirs, and the future of Rome!” Your voice cracked between moans as he laughed lightly. Working on bringing you to your orgasm as he hummed.
Your body felt like it was ablaze, each thrust causing that knot to unravel further and further. Whimpering in desperation and squawking desperately before letting your head fall back. His name spilling past your lips before feeling that knot come undone. Mouth falling open in incoherent babbles as Geta fucked you through your orgasm. Making sure you were thoroughly satisfied and gritting his teeth.
Unable to hold himself back much longer, his thrusts became short and swift before he hilted himself deep within you and came. His own mutters just broken up syllables of your name, trembling arms, and weak kisses along your skin. His body collapsing upon your own as he pressed hot and gentle kisses to your skin.
“I love you…” he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as you lightly combed through his hair. Your own growing heavy as you sighed.
“I love you too…”
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suzannahnatters · 2 years ago
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So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?
Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)
In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.
"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."
I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.
Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.
Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.
From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.
Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.
I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.
I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.
No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.
Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.
The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.
Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.
Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.
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juletheghoul · 3 months ago
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too close
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a/n: Yeah. The trailer got me again. I can't help myself!!! Also - I didn't actually want to write feelings for these two but I have no say anymore. They have feelings, they are obsessed with each other and I can't just ignore it lol. Not beta’d and barely proofread- any mistakes or errors are my own. Hopefully you enjoy! (PS I did a little research on fruits in Roman times- they had no word for orange, so any shade of orange was just called red)
Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus eats pussy and I don't CARE, giving him that gluckgluck3000, creampie, Marcus gets hurt (hurt comfort), hand stuff from him because he's my precious man and he likes to give his girl pleasure, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus (for now?👀), **FEELINGS** let me know if I missed any!
This is the fic I referenced in this preview
Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader
word count: 5.1k (whoops!)
reblogs are appreciated
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You frowned, despite your station, the confusion and slight worry breaking through the years of training your face to remain neutral. For a moment, you forgot your place.
“But-“ he turned, head tilted in curiosity instead of anger, thankfully, “I am to stay here? You do not wish me to accompany you Dominus? To pour and serve…?” You could not keep the slight hurt from your voice, much to your dismay. 
“No Girl, you will stay here, at the villa.” He saw the confusion, the unabashed anguish on your face and his expression softened, “peace Girl, it is not a matter of not desiring your presence or your service.” You listened to him with a lump in your throat, a wild fear seizing your heart that he might have grown tired of you. 
“I will not have the luxury of a tent, the rebellion is small enough that I can squash it and be back in less than a moon’s turn.” He came close, close enough to have your face tilt up to stare into his eyes. “I would not have you waiting for me in such a meagre camp, I would not have you sleeping in the dirt.” His hand settled on your arm, a soft offering, a reassurance but it did nothing to calm you. You have grown so accustomed to having him close, to ending up in his bed of a night more often than not before heading to your own, naked and pleasantly sore; to falling asleep with his seed trickling out of your puffy little cunt.
“I am comfortable wherever you are Dominus, I could still be of use, to light your fires-“ 
“I would have you here, and safe. That is my decision, and no amount of temptation will sway me from it.” He lifted your hand, pressing his lips to your fingers in silent, but firm apology. You knew there was nothing to be said, you had already pushed the matter far more than would be allowed on a normal day. 
“Your will, Dominus.” You bowed your head, despite the hurt and worry swirling around in your belly. “I will pray to the Gods for your swift victory, and safe return home.” 
He nodded, leaving shortly after. 
Time passed, and a feeling of restlessness took firm root in your being. The house felt empty, despite the attendants and sentinels left to guard them as well as the property. The days found you listless, moving through the motions of your chores and daily duties practically numb. The days were marks on the wall of your mind, praying to the Gods to send him back to you. 
Whispers travelled swiftly through the city, through the market stalls and through the villa itself, most of them rumours and it was difficult to keep your emotions in check. 
He has advanced
He has killed the leaders of the rebellion
He is victorious, already on his way home
He has been hurt
He is dead
He is victorious - Rome's favoured son has triumphed once more
The moon turned, once, and then twice, finally a third time before he was home. The all encompassing relief was short lived however, that wash of relief turned to ashes in your mouth at the sight of him. One of the rumours had been true after all. A sword wound to the side had laid him low late into the battle, it hadn’t killed him, thank the Gods, but it had slowed him down and made his journey home nothing short of agony. 
Your heart raced to see him weakened, every fibre of your being itched to run to him, to press your lips to skin but you refrained. You stood aside, dutifully, letting his trusted soldiers practically carry him to his bed. The older women got to work, bringing fortified wine with all manner of powders and potions to aid in his recovery while you stood next to him, the little half-moon marks in your palms from your nails barely felt like anything compared to the ache in the back of your throat. 
Your eyes would not leave his face. 
He looked so tired, mud and grime still marring his skin as he lay prone on his bed. To forfend the ugly thoughts swirling around in your mind, you focused on the tasks at hand. 
He needs to be cleansed, after he eats something I will boil some water and move gently, leave him to gather his strength. An offering must be made so the Gods will hasten his healing-
“Girl.” His voice was soft, and instantly you rushed to his side. 
“Yes Dominus, I am here.” You took his hand tentatively, your heart soared to feel him squeeze it. 
“Fetch me some broth, and help me to sit up–a few pillows behind me. I would sit upright.” 
You rushed to comply, happy to focus on his instructions. With soft touch, you did your best to prop him up, biting your lip to stop your eyes from welling up when he winced. Once satisfied, you set about fetching hot water and linens, as well as his broth. He sighed at the sight of it, and drank almost all of it within a few heartbeats. 
“Shall I help you cleanse now Dominus?” You brought the basin closer, showing him the steaming water and he nodded. 
Tentatively, you removed the soiled clothes he wore, ears pricked up for any sign of discomfort. He beared it with good grace, keeping the twinges of pain to himself, you imagined for your benefit, and you were grateful. It took time, but finally, you had divested him of everything, and he half sat, half laid on his bed, not an ounce of shame for his nakedness. It was secondary, to see him bare, more alarming was the soiled linens with the dark bloom of dried blood staining it on his side like some grotesque flower. 
He was pale, weak, his injury robbing him of his normal, ruddy health. He watched you, his expression somewhere between exhaustion, and a calm content. 
With gentle hands, you dipped the clean linen into the steaming water of the basin, and methodically cleaned the dirt, and dried blood from his skin. Eventually his eyes closed, soft sighs filled the air with every pass of the warm cloth across his shoulders, down the firm muscles of his thighs, his hands, until you reached the contours of his face. The lines were more defined, this battle had taken a toll on him. 
Your thumbs smoothed over his brows, wiping dust and worry away with a bone deep gratitude that he had come back. He melted into your touch, and you tried and failed to suppress the smile. 
“I must clean the wound, Dominus.” You reached for more clean dressings, giving him a chance to steel himself but he kept his eyes closed. You thought he might have fallen asleep, but he nodded, and so you did what needed to be done. 
To his great credit, he didn’t make a sound. Even as you cleaned at the angry, but healing edges of the wound. He said nothing when you packed it with the poultice one of the women had brought, when you covered it in a clean dressing, even as he drank down the no doubt foul tasting potion to help him sleep. Instead he settled back, and sighed, his eyelashes fluttering against his skin. 
You gathered all of the soiled clothing and discarded bandages, and moved to leave him to rest but his hand snatched at your wrist. 
“Wait, Girl, stay. Stay with me–” His words were almost slurred, and he didn’t finish his thought, his hand loosened around your wrist but you stayed, taking great care to lie beside him on his bed, and watched him sleep. Your heart raced with something you couldn’t–wouldn't name, something that threaded through your ribcage like smoke, wreathing its way around your lungs and taking root in your heart. You pressed the back of your hand to his brow, thankful that no fever lurked there and once satisfied that he was indeed resting, you rested your head next to his. 
Sleep took you, swiftly and without warning. 
The world outside was dark when your eyes opened, and it took a moment for you to get your bearings. His warm skin pressed to your arm and you jolted with the memory of his injury. 
“Peace, girl, I am well.” His voice was quiet, but stronger than before, “You did well in changing my dressings.” His praise squeezed at something in your belly, robbing you of any words you might have had. “You must be hungry, go and fetch something to eat and bring it here, I will share the meal with you.” The concern in his voice brought a smile to your lips, his thoughts on you, despite the pain he must have been in. 
“Yes Dominus, shall I fetch more of the potion as well? You should rest-” He raised his hand softly to forestall you. 
“I have rested enough, I would have my wits about me just now. Go on, you may fetch whatever else you need, I would have you sleeping in my bed.” 
His words rung in your ears as you moved throughout the silent house. They shone through your eyes as you piled a serving tray with olives and cheese, with bread and ripe fruits. They camped in your belly as it rolled with something when they repeated over and over like a prayer in your mind as you filled a serving jug with the wine he favoured, they strengthened your grip as you carried it with the utmost care down the moonlit halls of the house, almost sharpening your eyesight to bring you swiftly back to him. 
You set it down between you on his bed, careful not to spill anything or jostle him too much and just in time too, the hunger rung out from your empty belly loud as thunder but you ignored it, your priority was to help him sit up.
“Eat Girl, you are starving. I will pick at my leisure.” He frowned, gesturing to the food and you were grateful beyond words. It was a quiet meal, but comfortable. He usually ate by himself, most of the time while in his study and with you, it was after chores and duties had been completed. Despite all of your trysts and time spent together, it was the first meal you’d ever shared. 
“You do not favour the olives.” He said it without judgement. You shook your head shyly, covering your mouth to speak through bites of bread and cheese. 
“My desire for them is unpredictable.” He tilted his head, “Sometimes, they are all I want. Other times, I cannot stand the sight of them.” You wrinkled your nose, confirming that this time, the latter statement was true.
He smiled, huffing out an amused laugh through his nose.
“What else do you like? I see you favour the fruit, which one do you like most of all?” It was strange to be asked about yourself, no one in your life had ever wondered about what you might of preferred, for anything.
“Figs, I think. Pomegranates too, although peeling them takes a lifetime.” He huffed again, wincing slightly, “Are you in pain? Shall I fetch–” He raised a hand. 
“I am well, continue. Why do you favour them if they are so troublesome to eat?” He shifted a tiny bit, with great effort, turning to face you better. The room was dark, save for the few candles burning and the moon shining in through his window, casting stark shadows across his lovely face. 
“They are worth the effort.” 
He smiled, and finally reaches over to help himself to the food. Something about the darkness, about the quiet seclusion made you bolder.
“What about you Dominus? Is there a fruit you favour?” Your heart raced, fear that you might have overstepped grabbing hold of you but it was for naught, he merely frowned in thought. 
“I prefer plums.” He said after a moment, “I like figs as well.” It was both exhilarating and strange to speak with him like that, in the quiet dark, almost comfortable. “Although–in my younger days we fought in Spain, and there I tasted a fruit I have never seen again, I do not know the name of it but I enjoyed it very much.” 
“What was it like?”
“It was round, a strange shade of red with a thick peel but underneath it had segments like a lemon.” He continued eating, and you were content to sit with him, only moving the tray once he had eaten his fill.
“It is good to be home.” The words came out as a sigh, “I missed it while I was away, more than any other time I must admit.” He shifted slightly and winced again, “Help me lay flat, my back aches from sitting.” He held out his hand and you rushed to oblige, moving pillows and positioning him flat on his back. “That is better, gratitude Girl, let us blow out the candles and settle in.” 
“Yes Dominus.”
“Have you something to sleep in? What is most comfortable for you?” 
“I am content in this, Dominus.” You gestured to your tunic as you made your way around the room, snuffing out the candlelight.
“That is not what I asked you.” There was no bite in his words, but the expectation of truth was plain as day. 
“Most nights I sleep in the nude, it is what is most comfortable for me.” You made your way back to the bed but he did not let you get in. 
“Please, make yourself comfortable, there is no expectation from me, much as I have missed the pleasures of your body. I would have you sleep how you are accustomed.” You nodded once, undressing down to your skin before slipping into bed with him. In the dark, in the quiet, it was peaceful and the sound of his steady breathing worked it spell on you quicker than you would have thought. 
“Gratitude Girl.” He said it soft, and with a full belly and heavy lids, you questioned him. 
“For what Dominus?” The words were almost slurred, as the heavy press of sleep pushed you into the deep pool of blackness. You thought you heard him say everything, but you could not be sure, sleep had claimed you. 
-
You woke with the sun, the first few rays sliding across your skin like water and it was hard to move from your place. In the night, your body had brought you close to him, seeking out the warmth of him. He was still asleep, but his legs had tangled up with yours and it was strange to lay with him like this, both of you nude as the day you were born, yet incredibly comforting. 
You took the time to check over his wound, and were pleased to find it looking much better. The edges of it stitching together, thankfully without corruption. 
“It does not hurt as much as it did before.” His voice was sleepy, ���I will be back on my feet soon enough.”
“Let me dress Dominus, and I will fetch you something to break your fast.” 
“Not just yet.” He shifted, and although you helped him, he didn’t struggle quite as much. “Come, lie with me.” He held out his arm, and you went to him, trembling like a leaf to rest your head on his shoulder. “Gods, I missed you, Girl.” He buried his nose into the mess of your hair and something inside you grew and swelled, was fed and made strong by his words and by his skin. 
“I missed you, Dominus.” Truer words had never been spoken by you, the ache for him had been unbearable.
“Did you?” There was something underneath, something desperate and had it not been so early, so peaceful, he might not have asked.
“Desperately Dominus, I feared you had abandoned me, I feared you no longer desired me.” You pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, his scent, his warmth, him- sustenance
“Come now, Girl, you know of my desire for you, it is like a thirst I cannot quench. A hunger I cannot satisfy, despite my dark moods, despite my sour face, you are a source of joy and pleasure I have not known in some time.” His hand brought your face up, his gaze burned into yours and his words affected you so that tears welled in your eyes. He wiped them away, and the tenderness was too much, a sob clawed its way out from your throat. All of the worry, all of the fear that he might have left you alone in the world, to be sold to another bubbled up and he held you as you cried.
“Do you wish to be free of me? Is that why you cry?” Something in his voice broke your heart.
“No Dominus, no-“ you wiped at your eyes, moving to look him in the eye and the expression you saw in them was almost too much to bear. “I have never been so happy in all my life, I have never felt about anyone, the way I feel for you.” You pressed your lips to his, petal-soft. 
“Sometimes, the things I feel for you are almost too big for my body, I want to be with you always, I want to feel you always. I feared so much while you were gone that I could barely eat, barely sleep-” Your words were frantic, so many things to get out that you could barely speak and he pulled you close, shushing you softly. 
“My heart swells to hear you speak this way.” He reached down, sliding his hand towards the hinge in your knee, to pull it over his thigh. “Peace, let us just enjoy the silence.” You nodded into his neck, letting go of a great breath in your lungs. 
“If I was myself, and whole, I would be pulling every ounce of pleasure from you now.” 
You laughed at the annoyance in his tone.
“Soon enough Dominus, I would have you healthy and healed.” Your hand slid up the smooth expanse of his chest, threading through the curls at the base of his skull. “Once your wound has healed, you may have me any way you please.” 
“Any way?” His tone darkened, and your body responded, thighs clenching, heart racing, nipples hardening. “Any way I please? And what if I want you for a day and a night? What if I want you wet and spread for me in this bed until you’re so full of my gift it spills all over my linens?” The hand that had been softly stroking your back moved down and grabbed at your backside, pulling until the lips of your sex spread open. 
A moan slipped out at the feel of his hands, and he all but growled. 
“Do not make those noises Girl, not when I cannot fuck you how I wish to.” He pulled your face up, licking into your mouth with a hunger you could not satisfy, not in his current state. 
“Dominus, I beg of you not to taunt me, not when we cannot indulge.” You kissed him again, despite your words and finally he pulled away, the tremble of frustration in his grip. You shifted, and felt his manhood press against your thigh, the sight of him, leaking and hard against his belly made you sigh. 
“Do not concern yourself with that, I am ravenous for you, but my body cannot fulfill the wishes of my cock. Go and fetch something to break our fast. I will need you to change my dressing as well, if you could.” He sent you off with a kiss, and with desire dripping onto your thighs. 
“Yes Dominus.” You smiled, and rushed off to do what needed to be done. 
-
Weeks passed, and he healed beautifully. His wound knit together cleanly and with that, his strength came back. More often than not he stood and cleansed without your help, he left the safety of his bed and his chambers and sported a genuine smile as he made his rounds through his house.
You trailed behind him, your own smile in place to see him coming back into himself. 
Things were different. He was different. 
He spoke more, that was for one. Before he would keep his own council, his words were curt and his thoughts would be kept close to his chest. Some nights he reverted to his silence, but it had grown into something peaceful, something comfortable.
The biggest change though, was his attitude towards you. 
For one, he refused to sleep alone. The darkness of night found you tending to his needs and after the candles had been snuffed- he pulled your tunic off and pulled you into his bed, into his arms. 
At first, you thought it was his injury, a fear that he might suffer some setback in his sleep, but as the days passed on and he was well past the point of danger, he still refused to let you go. 
His desire had come back too, much quicker than his body could handle. Mornings would find you in the cage of his arms, with his lust pressed hard and hot at the cleft of your ass. You would pull away so as not to tease him, and he would let you at first, but as his body caught up to him, he stopped letting you pull away. 
Most mornings, he’d whisper how much he missed burying himself inside you, how he couldn’t wait to gift you with his seed while slipping his fingers between your legs and swirling them around your clit, only stopping after you’d fluttered around his fingers. Then he’d send you off to fetch food with a smile on your face and an ever-growing ache between your thighs. 
A part of you fretted as to why he hadn’t taken you yet, as the days passed it was clear that he was well enough to indulge. Another part, a hopeful, possibly quite foolish part of you thought maybe he was waiting for you to ask him. That couldn’t be, could it? You ruminated on your previous encounters, yes–he’d called you forth to warm his bed, but with every recalled memory it was clear that in his own way, he'd let you decide whether to push things or not. A luxury you knew was rare. It was an intoxicating thought though, to think that you could decide when and what you wanted him to do.
So many possibilities. 
When night came, you brought him his meal, and his wine and tried to keep the tremble of excitement out of your hands. You watched him move about his chambers, his strength back to normal as he dipped his hands into the fresh water in his basin. His hair had grown out a little, dark with silver mixed through and that thought struck you again, that he was some beautiful marble statue come to life. An emperor of old, standing before you in all his glory. 
“Dominus-” You called to him, unable to hold back any longer. His eyes raised, finding you as he dried his hands. 
“Before you take your meal, I would ask something of you.” Your voice shook, never had you openly asked him for anything before. He raised his eyebrows, more surprised than anything.
“What would you have of me Girl?” He moved towards you, eyes curious. 
“I would have you–” You stopped him, guiding him to sit on his bed, “I would have you sit here, and accept my mouth.” 
You kneeled before him, staring up at him with your lip caught between your teeth. Your hands landed on his knees, sliding up to pull his tunic up to expose his manhood. For a moment, he stared at you with wide, surprised eyes. 
“I have missed our times together, I have missed you filling me of a night and as much as I treasure your fingers in the morning, I would have you feel pleasure at my hand–or, my mouth.” He did not stop you from exposing him and heat flooded your body to see how quickly his cock responded to your words, to the soft exploration of your hand. 
“You would do this?” His palm landed on your shoulder, sliding up to cup your cheek. “You have no obligation, I would not command you to do this should you not want to.” You spit onto your palm and grasped him in hand and despite his words, he shudderred to feel the way you stroked him. 
“I dream about this Dominus, I desire you so deeply that I ache for you–” You opened your mouth and took the blunt tip of him into your mouth. He moaned, slack-jawed at the sight of you. You placed open mouthed kisses at the tip, and the sensitive underside, stroking at the base of him. His thighs spread, making room for you and you relished the warm strength of them under your arms. 
He tasted like the ocean. 
“God’s above Girl-” You pulled away, smiling as you continued to stroke him, he barely fit in the palm of your hand and with his passion dribbling out and your spit the sounds were loud and slick. Your own arousal unspooled between your legs, the ache intensifying as he tensed underneath you, hissing when you pressed soft kisses to the scar at his side, to the softness of his belly, to the firm golden thighs bracketing you to his hips. 
“Open your mouth.” His confidence resurfaced, and then his hand wrapped around yours, guiding you to stroke him the way he liked. He guided the reddened tip into your mouth. “Look at me when you take me in your mouth, open wide, I want to touch your throat.” You moaned around him, taking him deeper, breathing through your nose in an attempt to stay calm. 
“That’s it Girl, Gods be damned-” His tone was filthy as he held you there, eyes watering until you pulled away, sputtering and messy. 
“If you continue, I will spill in your mouth.” he guided your hand still, slowly stroking himself against your lips, smearing your spit and his salty arousal onto your lips. Never in your life have you felt that powerful, that beautiful, with tears spilling down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. He held himself suspended in his pleasure, awaiting your word. 
“Would you like to spill in my mouth Dominus? Or would you like to fill my cunt?” You held out your tongue, letting him rub the tip of himself against it while he decided. Your heart soared to see the conflict on his face. 
“I would fill your cunt, I have missed it terribly.” You smiled and rose with a final kiss to his cock and once you did, he ripped the tunic off your body. The loud tear of it made you squeal with a mix of shock and excitement. 
“I promise you, I will not last.” He all but tossed you onto his bed, spreading your legs wide for his gaze. “Greedy little cunt, so wet for me.” He spoke in a daze, staring at the place that ached at the mere thought of him. He slipped down and it’s with a shock that you watched him dip down to spear into you with his tongue. Never had anyone used their mouth on you and the sight of it was almost too much to bear.
It’s with a greedy, filthy groan that his lips dragged up to latch around the pert little pearl of you, his tongue stroking, stroking, stroking while his mouth suctioned around it. Your body was a taut string, legs shaking under the strong grip of his hands, holding you to him tight enough to hurt. Your breathing came in pants, the climax was already there, balancing on a knife's edge, so close you could almost taste it.
His hands moved, sliding up to pinch at your nipples and the wave crested. Your hands gripped into his curls, both holding him close, and desperately pushing him away while you fluttered into his mouth. 
You felt the strong muscle of his tongue slide down, drinking you from the source. 
He made his way back up, your slick shining on his face and on his whiskers. You’re almost too shocked, and too shy to look into his eyes. 
“I confess, I have wanted to do that for a long time.” He pulled his tunic up and off as you lay under him, boneless. “I know it’s not something commonly done, but I enjoy it. Did you enjoy it? I felt you flutter.” He raised your leg, wrapping it around his hip while his cock slipped inside you without any resistance. You let out a relieved sigh, finally, he was home. 
“Yes Dominus–” You almost whispered, half-shy as he dropped down, his arms holding himself up on either side of your skull. “No one has ever–Oh–” He snapped his hips hard, unable to hold himself back and already, the need built in your core, robbing you of any coherent thoughts. 
“No one but me ever will.” He kissed you, making you taste yourself and it was so perverse, so exhilarating you held him close, wrapping your arms and legs around him to feel as much of him as you could. His cock pushed and pulled, hitting that special place he owned and with a handful of thrusts, and a punched out groan he filled you with his gift. Finally. 
He watched himself pull out of the mess he'd made, watched in silence as his gift dripped out and onto his linens. 
Things felt different this time, there’s a vulnerability, an intimacy that is almost overwhelming. You pulled his face up, and pressed your lips to his softly, praying that you conveyed the feelings swirling in your chest. He kissed you back, his hand gliding up to wrap around your neck. When you opened your eyes, his brow was furrowed, the same feelings shining back at you through his dark eyes. 
Seconds passed, and the feeling did not disperse. Before he would have sent you away, but he held you close. Wordlessly he pressed his lips to yours over and over, he stroked at your skin, your shoulder and your thigh high on his ribs, your breast, your lips. He moved off, and went about dampening a cloth to clean himself off of you. Once he was done, he brought the food you’d served him and fed you from his own hand. 
You accepted the food, smiling shyly as he watched you, something like affection, like love shining out through his eyes. 
“Thank you Dominus–” He shook his head, a small frown at your words. 
“Call me Marcus.”
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physalian · 6 months ago
Text
Your colloquialisms are ruining the immersion (or, non-contemporary dialogue)
I am no expert here! Whenever I wrote historical fiction it was anachronistic historical fiction. This advice is from a reader’s perspective and from my experience writing high fantasy.
So what’s the deal with immersive dialogue? I’m going to ignore writing dialects and accents and so-called “old English” with the thee, thy, thou and such. Solely focusing here on the narrative telling me this isn’t set in present times, and yet the dialogue being painfully colloquial like present times.
This is coming from a book I had to read set in HRE times. In it, characters were spouting modern curse words, tacking on verbal tics and crutch words like “or something” and “um” and drawing out words like “daaaamn” and “nooooo”. Rip out the dialogue and toss it in a script with zero context and it would read like two high schoolers from 2009, not two adults from the Holy Roman Empire. Which is a problem, because it completely shattered the immersion. —
1. On so-called “formal writing”
Everybody knows that nixing contractions doesn’t do a damn thing to help your writing look more “formal”, it just looks robotic and stiff, right? We’ve gotten past this as a society? There’s a time and a place for replacing contractions with the full words, but not for every single sentence.
I swear this show keeps creeping into my writing advice but here we go. Transformers Prime. The context for Optimus’ dialogue has a lot to do with his aging voice actor, Peter Cullen, and the perception of the character over the decades from the corny 80s paragon hero everyman type leader to the grizzled and wizened old soul type leader. Optimus isn’t “one of the guys,” he’s old. Very old. He’s the dad of the group (one dad, his grumpy medic is the other dad).
So he gets lines like:
“I fear Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith.”
“But if his return is imminent as I fear, it could be a catastrophic.”
“I bore Skyquake no ill-will.”
He doesn’t curse like the other Autobots. His voice only raises in surprise, horror, or rage. He doesn’t go “um/ah/so/but/eh” and always thinks about what he’s going to say well before he says it. Despite him, Ratchet (the dad medic), and Megatron all being very old, Optimus is the only one who’s “proper” and collected and dignified with his lines. The writers didn’t achieve this simply by omitting contractions, he gets them where necessary and removes them when effective (e.g “We do not.” / “We don’t.”)
2. Thesaurus Rex
Continuing with the Optimus example, no other character in that show would use “zenith” unironically. Or “ill-will”. This doesn’t mean crack open and abuse a thesaurus but there’s a huge divide between:
“Megatron’s gone crazy and he’s going to implode soon” and “Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith”.
I can’ think of a better word to use than dignified, perhaps distinguished to describe his dialogue.
He doesn’t say “what?” when he’s confused, he pauses and says something like “please elaborate”.
This is both word choice and a syntax issue so if you’re struggling to fit a non-contemporary vibe for your work, pay attention to both.
3. When to abstain from cursing
There’s something very special about the dialogue in the Lord of the Rings movies: It’s PG-13 so they can’t curse, but if they had, it would have probably ruined the trilogy. These characters are able to yell in rage and anguish, spit vicious insults at their enemies, and stare down armies that are determined to kill them, all while never breaking the immersion.
Insults like:
“Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear.”
“Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, you witless worm.”
“Your words are poison.”
And all three were said by or about Grima Wormtongue.
Characters aren’t dumbasses, they’re fools, with the exception of Gollum’s insults toward Sam, the “stupid, fat hobbit”.
Even devoid of name-calling, Denethor absolutely trounces his second son by asking (and I’m paraphrasing) “Is there any man here willing to do his lord’s bidding?” right after Faramir expresses some apprehension about a suicide charge with his remaining soldiers, completely ignoring him and implying that he’s not a real man.
LOTR is full of juicy lines beyond curse words, too. One of my absolute favorites is: “Dark have been my dreams of late” as opposed to “I’ve been having nightmares lately.”
Do you see?? It’s poetry. The motif of Shadow and Darkness as if they’re real, physical things, all the lines of poetry pulled straight from the books like Theoden’s “where is the horse and the rider” monologue just before Helm’s Deep.
It’s dignified.
This one was a bit harder to, ironically, put into words without doing a full-blown case study into either franchise’s ability to write dialogue and monologues. I didn’t even talk about Ratchet’s several monologues (one of which was done perfectly in the sound booth on the first take) because Jeffrey Combs has a voice like ambrosia.
TLDR: Immersion goes far beyond your vivid setting descriptors and the clothing or the names and languages. I mostly write fantasy and sci-fi and whenever I read or watch fantasy and sci-fi that isn’t meant to be a world different from our own, or about characters who don’t speak modern English, and they go off with modern slang, syntax, and verbal tics, it just feels sloppy and weak. Pay attention to the following:
Syntax
Modern slang and jargon
Filler words/verbal tics
Curse words/curses
Flat, unmotivated vocab
*All of the quotes were from memory because I watch both of these franchises way too often. So apologies if I got any wrong.
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missadangel · 2 months ago
Text
The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)
All Chapters List
XI. The Accusation (+18, Mature)
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gif --- ayo-edebiri
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“Ad astra per aspera”
To the stars though difficulties…
Villa…
"I need you to help me to kill Caracalla.”
You stared at Julia's face in astonishment, trying to make sense of what you just heard. Her dark brown eyes were serious, but you noticed something in her expression that you couldn't identify – it was somewhere between fear and unease.
"You came to my house to ask me to help you kill your son? Is that correct?”
“He is no longer my son. Macrinus has made him a mere plaything. He pretty much does whatever he wants. He had his relatives killed, without any hesitation. I can't let him kill Geta too. It's only a matter of time. I can't lose Geta.” She sounded upset when she mentioned him. "I lost everything to Macrinus. First he took my son, then my reputation. My own son won't listen to me, he sent me into exile, which is unacceptable." Her tearful voice suddenly turned serious. "I have no one left to go to but you which Acacius had a hand in this, of course.”
‘What are you sa-?’
"He wiped out my men in Legates. They were my last remaining stronghold. I did everything I could to keep them on my side for all those years. Did he tell you how he killed them? I'm sure he didn't, so as not to startle you."
You took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "My husband doesn't hide anything from me. But even if he did, I'm sure he has his own reasons." You said confidently.
"Sure he has!" she said sarcastically.
She was testing the limits of your patience. "Cease talking nonsense about my husband!" You barked. "Simply say whatever you came to say then take your leave.”
"Fair enough.” She crossed her legs. “Caracalla must die before Macrinus returns to Rome. Before he appoint him as Praetorian prefect (commander of the Imperial Guard)." She took a deep breath. "I'm sure of that he will take action against my sons once he assumes command of the guards. This could potentially lead to him ascending the throne. However, if Caracalla dies, it might weaken Macrinus' position. It would be more feasible to defeat him when Geta is emperor.”
"And you needn't worry about being hidden away in the shadows, as it seems unlikely that Geta will exile you like his brother did? It sounds like you're saving yourself.” She averted her eyes which meant you were right. "But why do you need my help exactly?"
"I believe you care about Geta, don't you? He also cares for you in some way. Perhaps more than you realise.”
“There’s nothing—“
You were about to protest, but she silenced you by raising her hand. “I am his mother, so I know him well and I know you don't wish him dead too. Besides, it would be better for everyone if he rules Rome alone. So Caracalla must die as soon as possible before harms him. You're a medicus, aren't you? You could make a concoction of herbs that will kill him painlessly.”
Her words were sharp, but her gaze was unwavering, declaring that this was the path she had to take. But it was still strange that she said it so easily. It felt wrong.
"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't have to. It's only a matter of time before he finds out, accuse me of betrayal, and send me back. This is our sole opportunity before Macrinus's return."
‘Our? There is no ‘our’, there is no we. Furthermore, it is not a decision that can be made alone. You present this as an easy solution, but I am a married woman and my husband is a Roman general. What will happen to my husband if your plan fails? Have you ever considered this?”
She rolled her eyes. “Isn't that why you should help me? Once he's dealt with my sons, Macrinus' next target is General Acacius. To get you.” You knew exactly what she meant and she realized that. "I imagine your husband feels very regretful about not taking Macrinus out that night. Because I know he won't let him get away with it.”
You swallowed hard, hating to admit that she was right. Julia smiled, seeming amused by your expression. "Oh, poor Aurelia. It must be tough to be caught between three men. Yet you are fortunate. Even if you were to become a widow one day, there'd be another man waiting for you. Since you're a Roman princess, you're worth a great deal.”
That was the last straw. You felt a rush of anger and stood up abruptly. “Get out of my house now! Leave!” You barked, pointing your finger at the courtyard door. Julia stood up, looking insolent.
“If you truly care about Geta, think about what I said.”
“I said leave!” You shouted, then pointing your finger at her. “I'm warning you, don't you ever speak ill of my husband and don't come to my house again!”
Some of the slaves rushed towards you.
“Domina!”
“Escort Lady Domna outside.” You said sharply.
Julia gave you a stern look and turned away. She raised her hand to stop the slave who was approaching her. Then she left the courtyard. You were still pretty angry and tired, which made your head spin even more. Decima put her arm around you and made you sit on the lectus (couch). She grabbed your feet and gently lifted them, helping you lie down. Norell and Tullia were keeping an eye on you from a distance, looking a bit worried. You looked them with a half smile and told them to get on with their work. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Decima took your hand.
"Would you like me to make you some dittany tea (cretan thyme)?" It was an herb that was usually used for relaxation. Decima was from Egypt, so she was familiar with herbal teas. Well, not as familiar as you are, of course.
You looked at her. "Not that, not if I'm..." you said quietly.
"Oh, you're right. Chamomile then?”
"Yes, that's better. Thank you my dear.”
After drinking your chamomile tea, you fell asleep in the courtyard. The slaves were mindful of your need for rest and made every effort to avoid disturbing you. Those who walked towards the courtyard did so as quietly as they could. Then Mau appeared and jumped next to you. However, you were so deeply asleep that you were unaware that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You were suddenly awakened by the sound of a sword being unsheathed and a man shouting. Mau meowed loudly, jumped out of your lap in fright and sought refuge elsewhere.
Seeing Octavius holding his sword to a man's throat who you had never seen before. Opened your eyes in surprise.
“Sir! Have mercy please!” He begged. You noticed some parchment papers and a reed pen in his hand.
You sat up on the couch. “Octavius, what is happening here?”
"My lady, this rat was attempting to draw your likeness without your permission."
You were taken aback. "Can you clarify what you mean by that?”
Decima turned to you. "This man came for the General, but we informed him that he was not present. I then assumed that he had departed. Forgive me, my lady.”
Your eyesbrows rose. “You came to draw my husband?”
The man swallowed. Octavius shook him. “Lady Aurelia asked you a question. Speak, thief!”
You warned him, “Octavius, please put that sword away and allow the man to speak.”
He obeyed. The man stood up ad bowed. “Yes, my lady. Aventine cloth dyers association are paying me to do a mural of General Acacius and the tiger he fought in the arena, my lady.”
“Explain yourself. Why would they do that?” Octavius barked.
“He’s famous, sir, the city, all the Roman citizens likes him. He’s a hero.”
You smiled, and he was indeed a hero to you. You picked up the fallen scrolls and took a moment to examine them. He had painted you so well, even the mau in your lap, which you found quite remarkable.
"But you drew me, his wife," you murmured.
"My lady, allow me to beat this insolent rat to death," Octavius hissed. The man shuddered with fear.
"Please, sir. Leave him alone," you said, a little harshly.
"My lady, forgive me. You were so beautiful when you slept that I was overcome with admiration and wanted to draw your likeness.”
You felt your cheeks flush involuntarily.
“How dare you!” Octavius roared.
“Calm yourself, sir.” You gave Octavius a warning look. You stood up and approached the man. “Please rise.”
The man stood up looking a little ashamed.
“I'll tell my husband you came by. You are well talented, I liked your drawing,” you said, showing him the parchment. “May I keep this?”
He looked at you and gave you a big, warm smile. "It's already yours, my lady. I'm really pleased you think so.
You glanced at Octavius, who seemed to be losing patience. Then you looked at the man. “You may yet leave now.”
The man bowed his head and gave you a shy look, then turned and walked out of the courtyard. Octavius accompanied him outside. You and Decima studied the painting the artist had created. She then enquired as to whether she might bring you something to eat, and with your approval, she departed. It would seem that Mau was hungry when she returned to you, as she rubbed her tail against your leg. She meowed loudly when she saw Norell approaching you a moment later with a tray in her hands.
"Where's Decima? I thought she was supposed to bring the food.
You noticed that Norell's cheeks flushed. "Well, my lady, she had some more work to do in the kitchen."
"Is she all right?"
She nodded, but her freckled cheeks were still red. You grabbed her wrist as her furtive look and tone of voice made you wonder what she was hiding. "Tell me, what's going on?"
"Um, Decima. She took food to Sir Octavius." She averted her eyes from you and smiled in a way that seemed a little evasive. You blinked in surprise and then laughed.
“Oh, well, well,” you said, amused. “When these two have become so close?"
Norell chuckled. "It has been a while now. She often speaks of him."
You giggled. "Where might they be now?"
She turned her head towards the courtyard. “Over there.”
"Perhaps we could go and take a quick look at them," you suggested, with a hint of mischief in your voice.
Norell let out a soft laugh and followed you behind. The slave at the door was about to speak to you but you silenced him by putting your index finger to your lips.
You and Norell peered out of the door, observed Octavius and Decima by the stables, talking, smiling at each other. The slave at the door looked at them from behind you and grinned too.
As you watched them from a distance you recognized a familiar feeling in the way they looked at each other, love.
"My dear Decima," you murmured, sharing her happiness.
Norell sighed deeply. "I hope that one day I will be in love too.”
You heard the other slave sigh and you both looked at him with surprise. He bowed his head shyly.
“Domina? My lady?”
All three of you were startled by Tullia's loud voice. Decima had heard it too, and when she turned her head towards you three. You blushed and hurried inside.
“Tullia! Why are you shouting?” you snapped.
“Oh, forgive me. I thought…”
You and Norell had laughed loudly running towards the other courtyard. Tullia was looking at you, a bit confused. Decima came into the courtyard and made her way towards your voices.
“My lady?” She then looked at Norell in a rather angry way.
“I didn't say anything,” she said, holding up her hands.
"Come now, why are you keeping this from me?" you smiled at her.
Decima blushed.
“You're already sooo obvious.” Norell said smugly.
“What did you say?” Decima frowned and approached her and Norell turned around to run away. They ran into the courtyard and you followed. Decima cupped water from the fountain and threw it at her. Norell also did the same. They began to soak each other, laughing together. Norell ran towards you, intending to hide, but as Decima attempted to throw water at her again, the water hit you in the face, and you flinched when you felt the cold water on your skin.
“Gods!” Tulla cried out. She ran towards you. “My lady, are you alright? Look what you've done! Cease this nonsense now!” She yelled at them.
Mau had also got her share of a soaking, licking herself like mad to dry.  Decima and Norell were looking at you with guilty looks on their faces. But you, far from being angry, approached them with a serious expression and cupped the water from the fountain and threw in their faces. And a fun game began between the three of you. Tullia's grunts mixed with your laughter and echoed throughout the courtyard.
By the time the general arrived, you were still engaged in your game. Octavius was observing you at the door, perhaps not fully aware of his surroundings.  Marcus heard the loud, cheerful laughter and dismounted, heading for the courtyard with curiosity. He looked where Octavius was looking and was struck by the difference between this view and the one he saw every time he returned home. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He was at a loss as to how to react. He smiled as he recognized your cheerful laughter. Then he looked at Octavius, who looked like he was stunned.
“What are you looking at?” he yelled.
Octavius startled with his loud voice. “Sir!”
“You may leave Octavius,” he grumbled. How dare he watch my wife? he thought. Well actually he was watching someone else but still.
You all froze when you noticed him. Decima and Norell bowed to him and made their way away from the situation as quickly as they could.
“I'll get you some dry clothes, my lady,” Tullia said and ran out of the courtyard.
How great. They all left you alone with Marcus. He regarded you with interest as he approached. The stone floor was quite wet, as were your dress. You bit your lip, uncertain of his reaction. Fortunately, a smile soon appeared on his face, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"I must apologise for not realising your arrival."
"No need to apologise, my love. There is nothing quite like coming home and hearing your cheerful laugh, which is music to my ears."
You had a sudden sneeze. It wasn't the most romantic answer. Marcus chuckled. “My Lady. You’re all soaked."
Before long, Tullia appeared with a clean dress and the cotton cloth to drying yourself. "If I may, my lady-“
“Give that to me.” Marcus kindly took the cloth from her hand and wrapped it around you. Upon seeing your feet, you instinctively drew them back, as if to hide them. You hadn't realised how wet they were. He smiled and gently took you in his arms, which made your cheeks flush. After all, Tullia was following you behind, carrying your dry clothes in her hands.
Your hand was touching the golden-edged leather strips on his shoulder. Playing with them by running your fingers between each strip. He smiled in response. Once you had entered the room, Marcus set you down. Tullia then placed the dry clothes she had brought for you on the bed, leaving the two of you alone in the room.
"Allow me," you said as you reached for Marcus' armour, but he gently pushed your hands back.
"You first. I do love seeing you like this, but I'm afraid you might catch a chill." His eyes were roaming over your body.
You held his hands and placed them around your waist. “Maybe you could warm me up then?” You smiled naughtily.
He smirked and his hands were already undressing you with haste. Once he had removed your belt and your damp stola, his eyes lingered on the tunic that clung to your body. You were now very aware of the reason for the sudden change in his eyes. That his gentle hands would soon become more impetuous. Even before you reached for the holster on his waist, his lips found yours. His hands were trying to remove your long tunic and you were trying to remove his armour, but it was difficult. When your wet tunic fell to the floor and gathered around your feet, Marcus pushed it aside with his foot, never breaking the kiss. You couldn't tell him to take off his armour because your lips were completely captivated by his. Grabbing you by the hips, he picked you up and put you on the edge of bed. You pulled yourself back with all your might, kneeling on the bed. His armour touching your wet and naked body was a little strange, although seductive. Marcus thought you were playing a game, so he tightened his grip on your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss. But as he tried to come towards you, putting his knee on the bed, the sword at his holster hit the edge. He looked down at himself in surprise and laughed.
“I tried to tell you,” you laughed and helped him out of his armour.
“I must have been under your spell, princess.” He grinned.
Once he'd taken off his armour, Marcus grabbed you around the waist and laid you back on the bed. You couldn't believe how excited you became each time, as if it was the first time he'd ever laid you down and positioned himself on top of you. Moreover, how could it be that each touch of his lips to yours felt so different from the other? It really amazed you that such a simple touch could evoke such strong feelings. Perhaps it was the endless blending of pleasures that this strong bond between you bestowed upon you. What a treat, what a magnificent and wonderful feeling. His lips and tongue were exploring every inch of your body as your bodies fit together perfectly, and you enjoyed one pleasure after another. It felt like there was no end to the adventure of exploring each other's bodies and their needs. Every time you encountered a new sensation and a lot of pleasure. Even Marcus, who was an expert lover, found this to be true. Despite his extensive experience, he had never made love to anyone before you, not even once. It was more than a sexual fulfilment. It satisfies his soul too, as he inhales your scent, touches you, tastes you, he feels complete, he feels alive. To him, you were made for him. The moment you got into his heart, everything lost its meaning; you and all the other insignificant things. You were born into his life like the sun into a dark, war-torn, blood-stained, boring, lonely world. You brought him light and purpose. From now on, he would live to serve you, to make you happy, to protect you from all evil. With you by his side, he was more likely to put his duties for Rome second.
“Marcus,” you moaned. He bent his head and kissed your lips, where you said his name. He didn't want to hear his name from anyone else's lips; only you had to say it, the others not allowed. They couldn't say it like you anyway. It wasn't even a possibility.
“What do you wish me to do, my love?” He whispered in your ear. His lips were caressing your earlobe.
You kissed his cheek and pulled his head towards you with your hands in his hair, it was your turn to whisper in his ear. “You know already.”
He grinned, of course he knew. His big hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and quickening his pace. As you moaned in response, he kissed you. Not to silence you, but to feel your beautiful voice within his very own mouth. Soon together you reached the overwhelming end of your pleasure, moaning into his mouth for the one last time. You remained in that intimate position for a while, breathing heavily. Feeling each other's hearts beating against your chests under your palms. Savoring this glorious moment.
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The bright sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating the room with a warm glow. The soft breeze from the balcony caressed your still damp hair, causing you to shiver slightly and pull the sheet over your shoulders. When you heard the swallows chirping, you decided to open your eyes. Marcus wasn't with you in the bed. You frowned and sat up.
“Morning my beautiful wife.”
You turned your head towards his voice. Marcus was at his desk, looking pretty busy with a quill pen and some papers.
“Morning.” You gave him a smile. “Did I sleep for too long again?”
“Just a little,” he replied turning his head back down to continue writing something on the paper. You got up and put on your tunic. However, you then felt nauseous again.
“Excuse me,” you said covering your mouth with hand. Hurried out of the room. Marcus put his quill pen down on the table and stood up. He walked out of the room and followed you into the latrina, waiting outside the door.
"Aurelia, my love. I'm rather concerned."
As you stepped out of the latrina, he put his arms around you.
“Maybe I should call for another medicus?’
"I don't think that is necessary," you said as you walked back to the room together.Marcus helped you to sit on the edge of the bed. He crouched down in front of you, his hands gently smoothing your dishevelled hair.
"You said that you might get better if you rested. However, I can see you're still not feeling well." His face showed concern.
"I'm actually feeling better today." You mumbled. It wasn't a complete lie. The nausea wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. You felt you had no complaints, knowing what was causing this feeling. Marcus lifted your chin up with his hand. You didn't want to tell him before you were certain, but he was so concerned. He needed to know.
"I sense you're hiding something from me.”
You looked at him, blinking your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Marcus, I, um. I wasn't sure if I should tell you until I was certain..."
He looked at you from under his eyebrows. "Continue."
You took his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. "I believe I'm with child.”
Marcus froze. His eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilated. Then the most marvellous smile appeared on his face. He kissed your lips, and his heart overflowed with bliss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling towards him. He buried his face between your breasts, then slid it to your belly, planting kisses along the way. You felt his lips on your belly.
"What have I done to deserve you?"
“It might be too early to say for sure. Perhaps we should wait a little longer-“
His lips found yours suddenly. He put his knee on the edge of the bed next to yours and laid you back down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, he settled right next to you on the bed. He put one hand on your belly.
“My beautiful Aurelia,” he purred. “I love you, with all my heart and all my soul.” His warm breath caressed your face, your heart blossomed.
“I love you, Marcus. I love you much more than words can ever say.” You touched his cheek with your fingers. “I hope that I am carrying your child.”
“Our child.” he corrected you.
You smiled. “Our child,” you repeated.
He kissed you again, your heart beat with bliss, which soon turns into desire. “I shall spend all my days with you." He said huskily as his hands lifted up the hem of your tunic. “I shall spend all my time making love to you, over and over until our bodies become one.” His lips found yours again and soon turned into a hungry, lustful kiss. As he slid into your shaking body, and you moaned with exultation. This was love. This was blessing. Elysium on Earth.
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Over the next few days, you tried a series of tests to find out whether you were carrying a child or not.One of the tests was a common one in Rome and Egypt. All you had to do was urinate in two different bags; one filled with barley and the other with wheat. If the grain in either bag sprouted after being peed on, it meant the woman was definitely with child.As it turned out, they were right. You saw the barley sprouting within a few days, and the wheat took a little longer. Decima said that meant you were carrying a boy. That's how you felt, they said it was a maternal instinct. You never thought of yourself as a mother, at least not this early. But it was indescribable happiness. Marcus was treating you with more tenderness than ever. You were delighted to be the cause of this amazing man having such wonderful feelings. It was a pleasure to see him so cheerful, and the others in the villa were equally pleased to share in his joy.
During this time, Marcus had been closely involved in the training of the soldiers at the Campus Martius (Fields of Mars) just outside the city. Macrinus had been absent for over a week and it was to be expected that he would soon reach Libya. As the general of the army, it was his duty to be prepared for any eventuality and to train his troops accordingly. No matter how busy he was, no matter how late he came home at night, at the end of the day, you found him in bed snuggled between your breasts and legs. You never complained as you wanted him so much as ever thanks to changes of your body that had led to heightened sexual desire.
That morning, when you were helping Marcus put on his armour, you mentioned Julia. It seems she was pretty desperate, even talking to him about Caracalla too.
"Geta is keeping her hidden," Marcus said as he checked the strings on his armbands, "It's likely that Caracalla will eventually find her. She may have a point about Caracalla being prepared to assign Macrinus as Praetorian prefect. However, he will need to return to accept it. I must finish him before he arrives in Rome." He said with determination.
"I suppose he will return soon, then?”
"He must be. I'm waiting for the messenger pigeon to come back. If the legion commander in Libya confirms he's arrived, I'll make the necessary preparations."
You swallowed, feeling concerned by the fact that he was about to fight Macrinus again. Marcus took your face in his hands.
"Please, do not be concerned, my lady. I gave you my word that you won't lose me."
You nodded. "You do what you need to do, my love."
"I will. For you." He put his hand on your belly. "For our child. I will do whatever it takes to make sure he grows up in a safe Rome, and with other Roman children.”
“I am certain you will.” You embraced him and rested your head on his chest, running your fingers through the contours of the medusa.
“Speaking of children,” Marcus said. You lifted your head to look at him.
“Hmm?”
“All the kids at the Poorhouse and the people there.” He murmured.
“I haven't been to visit them in ages. What about them?”
"You don't have to go. Please don't tire yourself out. I want you to stay here and get some rest. Besides, It seems that Geta is already looking after them in your absence."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”
"Yes, that does astonish me too. I find it unusual that he would spend his coins on something like that."
"He said he would, but I must admit I didn't expect him to keep his promise."
"You might be right about him. Maybe he could be a better emperor.’ You sensed the sincerity of his tone. "However, I tend to agree with Julia about Caracalla." He said, his face suddenly serious. "Every moment he breathes is detrimental to Rome.”
"Julia almost begged me to poison him."
He was checking his sword carefully. "No, that's treacherous. Even for him. He is an emperor, after all. It must be done honorably."
You felt tense. Or was he planning to act soon? He never mentioned it though.
He put his sword in its holster. "Enough politics, I think." He smiled. "I must take my leave now, my lady.”
For some reason, you felt a sudden sense of unease. "Will you be on duty at the Field of Mars today too?"
"That's correct," he replied after adjusting his armour for the last time. "Please don't engage in any risky things during my absence." He said in a commanding tone.
“I'll be making herbal tea, too dangerous,” you said mockingly.
He gave a little laugh and kissed your temple before leaving the room. As you followed him outside, you realised that the uneasy feeling inside you was getting worse. Maybe it was an unnecessary consequence of your new situation: worrying too much about everything. Marcus looked back at you one last time before heading out. You gave him a smile and then he left.
You made your way downstairs to the girls. You had little chat while they were engaged in weaving the carpet. There wasn't much else to do for the rest of the day, except lie down and rest. You visited Unio to feed her and brush her pearly-white mane with your fingers. Marcus had forbidden you to ride, not until the birth. He'd also told you not to go to the poorhouse, and you'd had to obey him on that one too. In the last few days you had become a little better with your knife and Marcus had admired you for it for the first time. But your overly anxious husband didn't want you to pick it up for a while either. Why did carrying a child have to be so boring?
In the evening, you were feeding Mau. Then you heard footsteps approaching from the courtyard.
"Domina!" The slave boy came running to you. He had that look on his face again, hesitation.
"What is it now?"
"The Emperor." He mumbled.
"Sister!"
You were quite taken aback to see Geta appear out of nowhere. He approached you and embraced you while you stared at him with your mouth hanging open.
“What are you doing here?”
Geta made a face. "Is this the manner in which you choose to greet me?"
"Well, apologies. I am simply astonished."
Geta looked around. "So this is your little house.”
You walked towards courtyard together. "Please have a seat, your majesty," you said, gesturing to him.
All eyes in the villa were on your emperor half-brother, who was seated comfortably on the armchair wearing a crown on his head and an overly flamboyant toga. You requested that the slaves bring you wine and fruit. Geta examined the wine glass and took a sip. As you observed him sitting where his mother had sat days ago, you came to recognise the differences between him and her. They were nothing alike. You were surprised that you had never realised this until now.
"It's been almost weeks, I've missed you a lot." He said suddenly. "How are you feeling now?" He looked you up and down.
"I feel better now, thank you." Your hands involuntarily went to your belly. You were unsure whether you should tell him or not. He was so unpredictable that it was difficult to guess the outcome of saying something like this to him. Perhaps it would be best to wait until your belly gets bigger before sharing.
"My mother," he suddenly said in a serious tone. You looked at him. "She's been here. I know what she told you.”
“You do?”
"As she gets older, her behaviour is getting worse. Don't take her seriously."
"Do you think so? What she said to me is something that should be taken seriously."
"You're right, it's horrible. Caracalla really has gone mad, but her intention of killing him... It's simply not right.”
"Is there something new about his madness?"
"Apart from the fact that became Macrinus' plaything? Well, he won't take me to any meetings anymore. He's got a new toy.”
“How you mean?”
"Macrinus' new right-hand man. He's like his shadow, taking care of things while he's away. I've never met him before, but my brother has already assigned him to the important tasks. I hadn't even been informed about it. Can you believe it?"
You thought about what Marcus said to you about Macrinus' spy. "Could he perhaps be one of the legates?"
"No, he's just come from the north. I don't think anyone knows him, not even the general, your husband."
"If Macrinus hid him like Gaius, I don't think he meant well."
"That's what I thought. You're clever, sister. I've missed talking to you. But not politically, of course." He grinned.
You smiled back. "You're helping your mother to hide from Caracalla, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am." He snapped, playing with his glass.
"What if he finds out?"
He shrugged. "That prick sent her without asking me, anyway." Suddenly Geta put his glass on the table and leaned towards you. "Aurelia, he's really out of control. I know Caracalla, always was, but this time it's different. He's hallucinating, dreaming, and that worries me. I know he'll hurt someone else, if not himself. Last time he nearly got me killed, all because of a stupid dream he had."
"Did you say hallucinations?”
He nodded. "I'm certain it's her. Mother. She did this to him. I gave her a clear warning, but she refused to listen. I'm asking you because you're the expert. Is it possible for a herb to have such an effect?"
“Many kinds of plants can do that. But how could Lady Domna possibly poison him?"
"Not directly of course. My slave caught her talking to another slave in the street. She is not aware, but I know everything.” He exhaled deeply. “She should never have come back, she'll get herself killed."
It was something that would endanger not only herself, but everyone including his own son Geta. How could she be so irresponsible? She must be mad for sure just like her son.
"If its on his drink or food, if I can examine it maybe I can help.”
Geta smiled smugly. “That's why I came here.”
He gestured to one of his slaves who was holding a small wooden box. Geta reached the box, opened and took out a vial filled with red liquid and handed it to you.
"Here. This is a sample of the wine he drank yesterday. Will that be enough?"
You took it, uncorked it and sniffed. As you were already highly sensitive to smells, this one smelled completely wrong.
"Yes, I think this would be enough. Let me observe this first.”
"You do that. I must return now. I don't want him to realize I left the palace and came here. He's rather mad and unpredictable more than ever." He stood up and put his hands on your shoulders. "If you happen to find out what it is, send me word. I'll send one of the slaves here. It seems that I can no longer trust my own guards. He is about to place them all under the control of Macrinus' rat."
You nodded. "I will see what I can do, brother."
Suddenly he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You tried to pull back, but it was futile.
“Geta,” you hissed. “You should not touch me like this. Please-“
“What's wrong with embracing my sister?” he said arrogantly.
You couldn't help but feel that he was right, but it still felt a little awkward. He laughed at the look on your face and leaned his head down to kiss your cheek. "Take care of yourself, sister. Hope I'll see you soon," he said, with a wink, and left the courtyard with his slaves following him behind.
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Campus Martius. (Field of Mars).
General Acacius arrived there after completing his other duties at the barracks. The layout of this place is reminiscent of an army camp, with a number of small buildings.
“Attention! The general is here!” Octavius barked at the soldiers. They immediately stood at attention.
Acacius' eyes were fixed on the recruits. Some of them were pretty clumsy. He jumped down from his horse, squinting at them.
"Chin up! Chest out! Shoulders back! Suck your stomach in!” Octavius commanded, touching their shoulders to ensure they were doing it right. Then he ran to Acacius' side as he approached them. "Sir!" he nodded to him.
"Sir Octavius, these soldiers are struggling to get in line properly! This is how you train them?” he yelled at him.
That's what being a Roman General entailed, after all. Keeping an eye on the rookies and their commanders, supervising his second-in-command, training all the soldiers to keep the army ready for anything, constantly meeting with the Legates to assess the situation. Keeping track of the legions abroad was undoubtedly the hardest task. The army pigeon was the most efficient way to communicate. A trained pigeon could deliver a message in two or three days, whereas a soldier would take months to do the same.
He looked the soldiers in the face as he passed, tapping some on the shoulder to make sure they were properly in line. The soldiers saluted him by putting their hands on their chests. Some of them looked nervous.
“At ease!” Marcus shouted and the soldiers got into a relaxed position to continue their training.
Octavius walked with him towards the building where the Genaral's room was located. Cato was there, waiting for him outside his room. He saluted him.
“Cato, why you are not with the recruits?’’
"Sir, I wanted to let you know that the pigeon has arrived. I have placed it in its cage and I am waiting here to ensure its safety." He said it in a very serious manner.
Octavius chuckled. Marcus grinned.
“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Marcus asked him. They were both looking at Cato.
“I believe this prick using the bird as an excuse to avoid training.”
Cato opened his eyes wide. “Never, sir!”
"Who gave you permisson to talk back?" Marcus shouted at him. "Now get out of my sight before I train you myself!"
“Yes, sir!”
Marcus and Octavius laughed after he hurriedly picked up his sword and rushed out. "This boy is really...” He murmured.
"He's been working really hard lately," Octavius said, opened the door and waited for Marcus to enter.
“Do you believe so?” He entered the room and sitting down in his chair and putting his sword on the desk.
"I think he's ready for the platoon training. If you agree.”
Marcus opened the lid of the cage and took the small sealed paper tied to the pigeon's foot. "I still don't think he's ready. He must to learn to overcome his hesitation first." The seal belonged to the Eighth Legion. It was stationed in Leptis Magna, a likely place for Macrinus to visit. Marcus lifted the seal and opened the thin paper.
“My dear friend, the esteemed General Acacius. I Caius Drusus commander of eighth legion, salute you! I have dispatched my men to the harbour of Alexandria as you ordered, however both ships that came from Rome brought only armoury and provisions. Sir Macrinus or his men were not among those who disembarked. Also, we have received word of a few men gathering in the Syrian sector, which may be in line with your suspicions. We await your orders. Rome Victrix!”
Marcus crumpled the paper in his fist and squeezed it. Octavius figured it was bad news.
“Sir? What does it say?”
Marcus slammed his hand down hard on the desk, his whole body filled with anger. “Damn you Macrinus!”
Marcus found himself somewhat perplexed. He was certain that Macrinus was on his way to Ostia and that the ship was waiting for him there. But why hadn't he been seen in the harbour? Octavius picked up the paper he had crumpled up and read it with curiosity.
“How can this be?" He put his hands on the desk and looked at him. Or maybe he never actually left? Did he play a trick on us?"
Marcus was mulling it over. Why would he do that? What was he trying to act? He was such a clever enemy that he never gave away his trail. For Marcus, fighting was simple. It was easy to move your sword according to your enemies movement and cut him down. But playing mind games was tough. It was exhausting to think like your enemy, to anticipate his next move, to always try to be one step ahead of him. Especially when the enemy was someone who had the emperor in the palm of his hand. Could he be seeking retaliation? Or had he never left Rome? Marcus exhaled nervously.
“Octavius, I want you to place two men outside the villa.” He ordered, turning to him. “Is Felix still on Palatine Hill?”
"Yes, sir. He's positioned there as you ordered." He'll let me know if anything arises.
Marcus put his hand to his face, closed his eyes and sighed again. “We're missing something, Octavius.”
“What could it be, sir?”
“I'm not certain yet. But I'll find out. Make sure all the men are gathered in our usual place tomorrow night, in incognito. We shall talk over. Now leave me alone.”
“Yes sir,” he said and left the room.
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Villa…
You had been studying the wine residue that Geta had brought you for most of the day, with the help of Decima and Norell. Despite making a few mistakes and experiencing a few setbacks, you eventually managed to identify the substance as the fruit of the Red Shanglu plant (Phytolacca acinosa). Given its red colour, it was a logical that it would blend well with wine.
“Why doesn't it kill him immediately?” Decima asked. She shook the vial in her hand.
"It's not a particularly poisonous plant. Or maybe the person who made it is inexperienced with it. However, even the smallest amount could cause brain damage. That's more dangerous than death,” you muttered.”
“What kind of fruit is this? Can we find it around here?” Norell asked.
“No, unfortunately not. It's probably a fruit from China or somewhere nearby.”
“Didn't the Empress come here from Syria?” Decima asked.
“Damascus is frequented by Chinese traders, couldn't she have brought it from there?”
“That is true.” When you were in Egypt,your uncle had purchased a number of plants from traders who came from Damascus to Alexandria. This was not an auspicious sign. It would be very difficult to create an antidote without the plant itself.
“So what are you going to do?” Norell asked.
“I need to to speak with Geta. I must inform him of this."
“But the soldiers outside, won't let you.” Decima murmured.
Right. Two of Marcus's men arrived at noon for some reason. You were certain that if you went with them to Geta, there would be tension between those two again. Moreover, it was already dark, and he must be on his way back.
You opened your small leather notebook to review the notes you had taken earlier and consulted the description of this plant. From what you can gather from your notes, it seems that reversing it is not an option. However, there was another fruit that could potentially help to mitigate and cure it. Acorus gramineus (commonly known as Japanese sweet flag). Of course. How you didn’t think of that? You recalled your Uncle Vicius with respect and found that his teachings had proved useful to you in your life. You promptly rose to your feet and took a moment to survey the shelves. This plant is a common genus used in Rome and other regions. You attempted to reach for the jar at the top of the shelves, but it was out of reach. You rose on tiptoe and reached as far as you could. Before Decima had a chance to get up and come over to help, another hand suddenly appeared and grasped the jar.
"I did warn you not to do anything dangerous, didn't I?” Suddenly Marcus appeared next to you.
You looked at him in surprise. When had he arrived? The girls greeted him and left the room. "Jars are now a source of danger to you, General?" You teased, took the jar from his hand and put it on the table.
Marcus smiled and approached you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He planted a tender kiss on your hair and breathed you in, finding your ear. “I missed you.” Then he kissed your cheeks, your nose and your forehead, making you giggle. Then he turned you to him and kissed you on the lips before you could even open your mouth to answer.
“I missed you too, my handsome husband.”
He chuckled and looked at the vials, herbs on the table. "It looks like you had as busy a day as I did.”
You took a deep breath. “I guess I did."
He put a hand under your chin and turned your head towards him. His eyes were already filled with curiosity. "Something has happened. Tell me."
You put your hands on his shoulders. "Geta was here."
He raised his eyebrows. "Your Emperor half-brother Geta?”
“I know no other Geta,” you laughed. But he didn’t.
““What did he want? Why did he come?” He asked in a rather stern tone. Just hearing his name was enough to make him angry. You place your hands on either side of his face. It had an instant calming effect on him, his expression softened immediately.
“You've just arrived, my love, you must be tired. We can talk while we eat."
You picked up a jar of jasmine from one of the shelves.
"I'll put it in our room, it smells nice and has a calming effect."
Marcus put the jar back and grasped your wrist. "There's no need, my love. Your smell is much nicer, and it's the only thing that can calm me down." He led you out of the room.
Once you had entered the courtyard, you requested that Tullia bring the food and walked to your room. Before heading for the stairs, Marcus stopped when he noticed Octavius and Decima talking.
“Why is he still here?”
You chuckled. He looked at you with questioning eyes. You grabbed his muscular arm. It was your turn to tug. “Come now, leave them be.”
“I now understand why he has been distracted lately.” He grunted as he climbed the stairs with you.
“Please don't be angry with him."
“I'm not. But I need to talk to him later.” He said after entering the room.
Your food was brought into the room while you helped Marcus take off his armor. As usual, Marcus sat you on his lap while eating.
"You know, I'm not sure if I'll be able to fit on your lap when my belly gets so big," you said as he fed you a grape.
“Nonsense. There's plenty of room for both of you on my lap," he said, opening his arms. You tilted your head to the side and snuggled into his chest. "As a matter of fact, I can hold three, four, five, or even more," he added, eating his food. You lifted your head to look at his face. "What are you going to do with so many children, General?" you asked, opening your eyes wide.
“I'm going to raise my own army,” he said, laughing.
You laughed too. “Since you are so lascivious husband, it is quite possible.”
“Is it just me? You are too, my sweet wife.”
Your cheeks flushed. “You made me,” you touched his shoulder with yours.
He bent his head and kissed your shoulder. “Pleasure is all mine, my lady.”
“Well, I didn't say I was grateful.” You teased.
As soon as you said that, he looked at you differently. You locked eyes. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. You were well aware of why his eyes had changed. "Then I'll take you in such a way that you'll be eternally grateful." He bent down and kissed you passionately on the lips. His kiss became more intense as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He put his hands in your hair and drank so deeply from your mouth that you almost forgot how to breathe. But you wanted so desperately that you never wanted him to stop. Even more so now, you wanted him more than you ever had, and he seemed to be quite pleased about it.  Marcus helped you lie back against his arm. He pulled the hem of your tunic up your legs and pulled you back onto his lap. As he slid the straps of the tunic down your shoulders, you could feel him getting impatient under your hips. When his lips slid to your neck, you threw your head back to gasp for air. But then you gasped again as he started to play with your already very sensitive breasts. Just the touch of his warm tongue made you feel like it was going to send you over the edge.
“Hmm your breasts are so responsive than ever my love."
You were sure your cheeks were redder than wine. “It's simply expecting for this phase,” you said breathlessly. Your impatient fingers ran through his hair. You were eager for him to take you now.
“It only adds to your beauty. You are so beautiful to be real,” he said huskily. You kissed his neck in response. He grabbed you by the hips, lifted you up and laid you on the bed. Soon he was on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you. Or rather, you tried. He chuckled. “You are very impatient for someone who is not grateful, princess?”
You sighed. “I apologise, I shouldn't have said that. I'm so grateful, please, Marcus.” You squirmed desperately. It was one of your lustful husband's favorite moments. “Please what, my love?” He put his knee between your legs as slowly as he could.
"I want you," you purred.
His lips were on your earlobe, and the feel of his hot breath on your neck made you shudder.
"You want me where?" He teased. His fingers caressed your nipples, his glorious length brushing against your entrance which driving you mad.
"I want you inside me, please," you whimpered.
He smiled wide, like he won a victory. “I shall fulfill my princess’ desire.” And there he was, right where you wanted him most. You felt like you were going to explode with happiness and break into little pieces. You felt proud of yourself for making progress and getting to this point. Now you both knew each other's bodies and desires well. It was a progress you didn't expect from yourself, and it wasn't difficult at all. Everything was easier with him. Desiring him, kissing him, feeling his skin under your fingers – it was like a need for life. You needed him. You needed him inside you, on your skin, in the air you breathed, everywhere. With him, everything was beautiful and complete. Without him, everything was missing and lost. With him, you felt alive.
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"I'm afraid I may be a little late tonight,” Marcus said as you tied the strings on his armbands. ”You'll keep your promise, won't you?”
Oh yes, your promise to him. After a lengthy discussion, he agreed to your proposal of preparing the herbal mixture for Caracalla, but he would prefer you to remain at the villa for the time being.
“I've positioned one of my men near Palatine Hill. One of the soldiers waiting outside will deliver it to him. So there's no need for you to go there," he said in a commanding tone.
You nodded. “I shall do whatever my husband says.”
A broad smile spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around you. “Say it again.”
You giggled. “I'll do whatever my husband says.”
“My ears have been blessed.” He pulled you to him and kissed you on the lips. He then sighed breaking the kiss. “I'm afraid I must take my leave now.”
“I know you'll come back to me eventually, so it will be easier to await for your arrival.”
He took your face in his hands. "You will wait my return, then, my lady?"
Of course you will, why did he ask such a question?
“I have waited a long time for you, Aurelia,” he said in his velvet voice. His expression was severe, the brown of his eyes warm, intense. “How could I not come back to you?” He kissed you on the temple. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, burried his nose in them inhaling your scent. You rose on tiptoes and kissed him with all the warmth of a woman in love. And he returned your kiss with all the joy and happiness of a man in love. If only Cato hadn't knocked on the door at that moment, you might have stayed there till night.
Once Marcus had left, you went downstairs to your little clinic-like room to make the herbal mixture. With the help of the girls, you managed to do it in less time than you expected. You did as Marcus told you and handed a vial of the mixture to one of the soldiers who were positioned outside the villa. He mounted his horse and headed to Palatine Hill.
As you sat with the girls until the evening, you found yourself feeling that strange sense of unease you had yesterday. It was just like that dream you had a few weeks ago. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you couldn't. And it didn't seem to go away until Marcus came back.
It was just after midnight and you were lying in bed playing with your wedding ring. Mau was sleeping peacefully next to you. But unlike her, you were far away from feeling peaceful. You couldn't sleep without seeing him return to you. Soon, however, you heard some horses neighing and murmuring, and your body filled with excitement. You quickly got out of bed. You wrapped your shawl around yourself and left the room, heading for the stairs. But you were halfway up the stairs when you saw the face of a man you didn't know. If you hadn't been holding on to the railing, you would have stumbled. One of the slaves stepped in front of the man, but he pushed him hard. From his clothes, it was clear he was one of the imperial guards. They usually kept their galea on, but not this man. At his command, five or six more soldiers entered the courtyard and all of them stood at attention. They were all dressed like imperial guards. You were wide-eyed, trying to understand what is happening, Decima ran up to you and held your hands nervously. Everyone in the villa woke up to the sounds and rushed to your side.
“You must be Princess Aurelia,” the man said, nodding then smiling weirdly at you. His eyes lingered too long on your body. You felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at you. You pulled your shawl tighter around your body. "Who do you think you are? I will not tolerate you entering my house at this time of night like a raider. I want to know who you are! Speak!"
The man laughed arrogantly. "My name is Flavius, my lady. You do not know me, but your husband does." He took a few steps towards you. "However, even if it's a very tempting idea, I am not here because of Acacius. As for your question, I am here by the command of your brother, the Emperor Caracalla. I shall take you to him."
You were both confused and afraid. "At this time of night? What is so urgent?"
"Oh, true. I forgot to mention the charges against you, forgive me." He smirked, gesturing to one of his men.
The man unfolded the scroll paper to read it aloud. "Princess Aurelia, you are under arrest by the command of the emperor. Your charges are; attempting poisoning of the Emperor himself, conspiracy behind his back, and aiding and abetting the exiled empress."
You swallowed, your heart pounding fast. It seemed likely that the ointment you had sent to Geta must have fallen into Caracalla's hands somehow. "I don't accept these charges! There must be a misunderstanding." you said.
"It doesn't really matter, my lady, I have been instructed to take you to Palatine Hill. And I will." The man came close enough to reach for your arm, but you stepped back.
"Lady Aurelia is the wife of General Acacius and also a princess. When the general returns home, they will go together to the emperor. Perhaps it would be inadvisable to take her by force, sir Flavius?” Tullia said firmly.
They knew each other? You wondered who he was.
”I remember you now. You stood up to me like this back then too. You may have aged but you're still stupid. Get out of my way at once!” Flavius barked.
Wiht Tullia's lead, the slaves and girls moving in front of you as if shielding you. The man sighed and drew his sword.
“No!” you cried.
“The Emperor's orders are final! Get out of my way or I will slay you all with my sword!”
“Do as he says!” You warned them, your voice trembling with fear. They regarded you with an uncertain expression.You held Tullia's hands. "Please, I don't want you to get hurt. I will be fine, I promise."
Then they bowed their heads and, with visible reluctance, withdrewing involuntarily.
You looked at him. “I should dress properly, first,” you said and headed for the room.
“I'm waiting, princess!” He said arrogantly.
How dare he talks to a princess like that? As soon as you walked in the room, immediately grabbed your scabbard and tied it around your ankle. You had to be prepared for anything. You put your hands on your belly, hoping everything would be fine. You put on your stola, look around the room one last time, opened the door and went out. Walked down the stairs, looking at the slaves who looked at you with concern. They were your friends, your family. You smiled at them reassuringly. The man named Flavius held out his hand to you. "My lady.”
You stepped towards outside, choosing to ignore him. Suddenly, you noticed Marcus' soldiers, who were brought to their knees with swords held at their throats by guards. "Put your swords away!" you barked them. But they looked at their commander. Flavius nodded. The men drew back their swords and sheathed them.
"General Acacius has entrusted us with the Lady Aurelia," one of the soldiers said. "We must accompany her.”
Flavius turned to him. "So that's what your General told you, eh? What if I don't let you then?"
The soldier looked at him sharply and drew his sword halfway, the sharp sound of the blade making you tense. "Then we'll have to stop you."
"No, please," you interrupted. You stopped the soldiers by raising your hands.
"My lady, please step aside. The general's orders are certain, and if we die for him, it would be an honour to do so."
Flavius laughed cruelly. “We must give him what he wants then!” He ordered to his soldiers and they all drew their swords once more. You were worried because they were outnumbered. Despite all of your objections, they began to fight. Flavius took hold of your arm and led you towards the carriage.
“Get your hands off me!” You struggled, but he was so strong. "Don't you hear me? I am your princess! You can't touch me!" You shouted at the top of your lungs but it was in vain. He made sure you were seated in the carriage and turned round. After his men killed Marcus' soldiers they mounted their horses at his command. Soon the carriage moved to take you to Palatine Hill. You couldn't stop your tears and sobs as you looked at the soldiers lying lifeless on the ground.
Marcus, where are you? you murmured as you gazed out the window, surveying the dark and gloomy streets.
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A place just outside the city…
Marcus and Octavius are waiting in one of the dark streets, which is meant to be a secret meeting place. They're both wearing black cloaks. He had stationed a few of his men at key points in the city to be ready for any move Macrinus might make, and every now and then they hold a small, secret meeting in this gathering place. Secrecy was very important. It had to be late at night because it was an important matter that was only between them. But tonight there was something odd. None of his men showed up. They should have been here by now. Octavius looked down the road but didn't see anyone. They decided to wait a bit more, soon they heard footsteps coming closer. It was one of Marcus's men.
“General! Sir!” The man was out of breath. “Guards. Macrinus.”
Marcus touched his shoulder. “Easy. Breathe.” He told him. “Speak clearly. Why are you on your own?"
"Speak, Aris, what has happened?" Octavius growled.
"The imperial guards arrested all of our men and took them to Palatine Hill."
"On what grounds? What did they say?"
"Have you seen Macrinus there?" Marcus asked.
He shook his head. Suddenly there was the sound of  number of horses approaching towards them and they all tensed up.
"You were followed, you fool!" Octavius hissed.
Guards quickly surrounded and circled around them. One of them looked at Marcus. It was Flavius. “Acacius, It's been too long. Strange night, isn't it?” He jumped down from his horse. Marcus looked at him, astonished.
“Flavius?” He looked him up and down. He recognised his rank by his attire. “So you've been appointed commander of the guards? I thought you were up north.”
So he was the Macrinus' shadow man. He knew exactly what he was doing, Marcus thought.
“I returned a while ago,” he took a step closer to him. “Since I have unfinished business here. With you.” His voice sharpened.
Marcus remained still.
“You killed my brother, remember? You took him from me. And for what? For screwing your wife when you're in the south?”
Marcus clenched his fists. His body was filled with rage. He was dangerously on the edge.
"I've been looking forward to this moment for quite some time, Acacius. I have been waiting for the right moment to take what you have from you when you feel happy.”
Marcus grasped hilt of his sword. Octavius and Aris were ready, waiting for his command.
"So Macrinus made you his commander? Is this how you plan to get revenge on me?"
"He's a very clever man, I'll give him that. And he's determined to finish you, though not as determined as I am." He grinned.
"Right, so how do we do it? One on one? You and I?" Marcus drew his sword to half-length.
Flavius laughed. "You've already lost, Acacius, why should I bother?" He gestured for his man to read the emperor's order. The man unfolded the roll of paper. "General Marcus Acacius! You are under arrest by order of Emperor Caracalla! Your charges are; placing men in front of the emperor's house to spy on him, to command the armies for your own benefit, attempting to murder a member of the senate, abusing the title of general, going behind the emperor's back.”
"Right," said Flavius, coming over to him. He held his gaze. “The Emperor wants to see you. He'll be the one to decide your fate.” He approached him. “Just as he will decide your wife's fate.” He grinned with his teeth.
Marcus grabbed his throat with both hands. “What did you just say?”
The guards half-drew their swords and took up attack positions. Octavius and Aris gripped the hilt of their swords in response.
"Speak, or I'll rip your neck off!" he roared, his fingers gripping his throat tighter. Flavius seemed amused.
"Your wife, Aurelia, is a beautiful woman. I took her from the villa to Palatine Hill. I told you it was a strange night.”
Marcus punched him in the face and kicked him in the stomach, mad him fell to the ground. He then quickly drew his sword. In a flash he leapt on him and held his sharp sword to his neck. “If you say her name again, I'll cut your tongue off!” He barked. “Why did you take her there? Speak, damn you!” He was boiling with anger.
Flavius, however seemed calm. “Don’t be a fool, Acacius, if you kill me now, you'll get nothing. I'm only doing my duty.”
Unfortunately it was true, he could kill him and all the guards one by one, but that would only result in a higher charge being brought against him. Furthermore, Marcus's primary concern was you. He had to make sure you were alright, which meant he had to go to Palatine Hill with them.
Flavius ignored sharp sword pressing against his throat, laughing cruelly at him. “Revenge is a son of a whore, isn't it?”
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divinesolas · 7 months ago
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plagued by you is my roman empire!!! I'm so excited for the part two, and would you give a little exploration on how they have come to love each other despite being somewhat enemies?? like I imagine they had a good friendship as children but the division of their house tore it. I. AM. SCREAMING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
a.n: just a minor little look into their backstory just to fully round out their story, i’ve briefly touched on this during the chapters but i thought it would be better to expand on it a bit 😁 also im so sorry this took so long and im glad you love plauged by you it’s easily one of my all time favs 😭😭
more so alicents pov.
part one part two - masterlist
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It is such a shame the one beautiful and thriving friendship between the first born son of rhaenyra and the first born daughter of alicent was torn away by the bad blood between families.
You were innocent friends, who would sneak off together after dinner to the kitchens and steal some cake. Who would walk to dragon practice with. Who's wounds you would clean when he messed up during practice. It all seemed to be going so perfectly between the two of you, so perfectly in fact that when his mother suggested the two of you to be wed it all started to crumble down.
That's when the whispers began, when your mother would sit in your room while combing your hair telling you that the Velaryon boys were not to be trusted. You didn’t understand why and would ignore her warnings, continuing to play with jacaerys.
Until he had begun to pick on aemond. Your sweet younger brother aemond who would come to you crying about some prank the boys pulled on him. You were furious and went to go confront them immediately. Jacaerys apologized the first time and you believed him, but then it continued to happen and you grew angrier and angrier until you could not take it. You realized your mother was right. They were bastards and monster who could not be trusted.
So began your anguish for one another. He grew to find you stuck up and annoying and you believed him to be stupid and selfish. Your mother was overjoyed when you stopped hanging out with the strong boy but she could tell you had lost a sense pf yourself, you were no longer the carefree kid who laughed and smiled at everyone but instead you kept a more serious face and merely nodded at people who would come up to you.
The marriage whispers faded and you mother could not be more pleased. Though it seemed you wanted no husband instead, being flat out rude to most men who would approach you or your mother would set you up with. This infuriated alicent more than you knew, you seemed fine with the prospect of marriage not even a year ago what had happened.
She came to realize she had happened. she was the one who made you not want to marry.
Even blinded in your anger you could not imagine yourself marrying someone who was not him and she knew that. therefore when the driftmark incident happened she thought it to be a blessing in disguise. You loved aemond more than anything and you would finally grow out of this affection you had for jacaerys and marry.
Yet you still did not. You did not even wish to marry aemond, still insistent that despite it being your duty there was still no man good enough for you.
your mother was besides herself when the years continued to pass and you remained unwavering in your decision, she felt sick. You could not see what she could. when she would listen to the way you would rant about him more than she ever did she threw up. Its the way she would rant about rhaenyra.
Then they finally returned to the keep and she feared she would lose you to him. That he would charm you, make you forget about the past and be would put a strong babe in your belly before she could even blink.
Yet when you said nothing to him even as jacaerys fought with aemond she had hope. It was finally over. She had prayed and prayed for this day to come.
And then blinded in her hope she had decided to send you. that it would take one last conversation between you and him to get closure she never got.
Yet you never returned.
When aemond walked through the door your dress in arm she crumbled to her knees and cried. He had won.
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sheaabuttaababyy · 22 days ago
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Roman Reigns - Back Home
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18+ smut, fluff
Amara was rocking her and Joe‘s 8-month old daughter Talia as she was breastfeeding her. Once she fell asleep she gently removed her nipple from her baby’s mouth before carefully placing her in the crib. Tucking her in and turning on the crib mobile Amara gently kissed her forehead before grabbing the baby monitor, quietly leaving the room.
Going downstairs she saw her other three kids playing with some toys. Two twin boys Jacob and Jake who were 6 and her oldest son Liam who was 12 "Hey my babies" she said going to them.
"Hi mommy" they all said in sync making her smile. "Liam where’s your big head daddy at?" "He’s still playing his game" he replied making her frown. He’s been playing for 6 hours now…
"This muthafucka" she whispered before going into his office/gameroom. Getting closer to the room she heard him shouting making her roll her eyes. Opening the door she saw him sitting on his chair leaning foward as his elbows were resting on his knees.
She bit her lip when she saw his tight white shirt that was out lining all his muscles and don’t get her started on the grey sweatpants and the man bun. Gah damn.
Walking over to him she made him lean back as she sat down in his lap his eyes not leaving the screen onetime. She kissed his cheek, neck before kissing his cheek again she pulled back when he barley acknowledged her presence. "Joe" no response.
"Joe” silence. "Roman" that made him snap his neck towards her and make a stank face. She never calls him Roman he hated it when she did. His head went back to the screen when he saw his player dying in COD "NOOOOOO. FUCK" he yelled making Amara Jump.
"Look look what you did. You made me die" he said as he took his headset off with a huff. "First of all you been playing this game for hours now and plus our dinner reservations are at 9:30 which is in two hours. Trinity will be on the way to pick the kids up" Amara said getting off his lap.
"Hey Uce you down for another game" they both looked at the headset on Joe's lap where Joshua’s voice was coming from. "No" Amara whispered shaking her head at Joe who picked it up and gave his wife a sheepish smile. "Yeah I’m down for another round but i gotta go after" he replied putting it back on.
Getting Annoyed she mushed her husbands head leaving. Walking out she heard the doorbell ring and sprinted knowing it was her bestie Trinity. "BEST FREN" Trinity shouted with her arms open. "BAE” Amara replied before jumping in her arms making them both laugh.
Putting her down they both walked in talking before going to the kitchen. "Shouldn’t u be getting ready" Trin asked while grabbing a drink from the fridge. "Yeah I have to take a shower and quickly do my makeup and hair, but Joe is kinda pissing me off right now"
"Oh why’s that?" Trin asked noticing the frown on her besties face. "It’s just he’s been gone for so long with work and everything and the week he’s been home all that time went towards the kids, which I’m super happy about. But it’s just me and Joe haven’t had our time in so long…i don’t know, I guess I don’t think he’s as excited to have this time together as much as I am and it’s kind of upsetting me" Explaining how she felt Trin went around the kitchen counter to hug her.
"Girl everything will be good y’all are gonna go on this nice date with good vibes, then y’all gonna go and do some love making with no distractions, okayyyyy" she hyped up making Amara laugh before Trin continued. "Okay ima take my nephews and niecy pooh now so go say bye to them and get ready and send me a Pic of your outfit, I love you" "love you too" Amara replied giving her a cheek kiss.
After saying bye to her sons and daughter she headed into the shower. Getting out she went to her walk-in closet/makeup room that was in a separate room.
Finally after an hour she was done as she was now just taking some pictures in the mirror
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She looked at the time realizing it was 9:15. "Oh shit" she whispered grabbing her purse and going to the bedroom "Joe" she yelled. seeing he wasn’t there she frowned assuming he was still getting ready. Maybe he’s waiting for me downstairs she thought.
Going down she stopped in her tracks as she still heard Loud noises and shouts coming from Joes game room. "NO tf he isn’t" stomping in her heels she opened the door seeing him in the same position , same clothes, same everything.
"ARE U FUCKING KIDDING ME??" She yelled making him turn back to look at her. His breath got caught in his throat seeing how gorgeous she looked before snapping back to reality. "Why are you yelli-" he about to ask before she cut him off.
"Are you serious? Look at the fucking time Joe" she said before walking away trying to hold on her tears. All she wanted was to spend time with her husband. Looking at his watch he saw it was 9:25 fuck he didn’t even realize all that time passed.
Getting up he quickly caught up to her grabbing her arm turning her around. He noticed the tears in his wife’s eyes making his chest fill with guilt and hurt. He hated seeing her upset especially if he’s the reason. "I’m sorry baby I’m so so sorry. Please don’t cry" pulling Amara into him he kissed her tears away and her face stayed motionless.
"I’ll quickly get dressed and we can get going okay, I’ll c-call them and let them know we will be late everything will be fin-" "No" she said catching him off gaurd. "No?" "I don’t wanna go anymore"
"Amara please I said I was sorry okay" "it’s always sorry with you" her saying that confused the shit outta him. "The fuck is that supposed to mean" "it means your always sorry, Joe when is the last fucking time we event spent time together Huh?" That question made him think, shit he couldn’t even remember it’s definitely been over months.
"Can’t even remember right? Joe all I wanted is for us to have this time together. The days you’ve been back we’ve barley spent time together which is okay cause u put most of it to the kids, but the times you do have free time you never want to spend it with me. Do you even love me anymore?." Her voice cracking at the end of her sentence as she tried to keep in all her emotions.
"Did you really just ask me that, Amara you are the most important person to me, I love you so much, I can’t even go a day without hearing your voice or seeing your beautiful face"
"Well it doesn’t feel like that. You can sleep in the guest bedroom tonight" she said walking upstairs. Going in the room she didn’t bother changing her clothes before crawling in the bed as she cried herself to sleep. Leaving Joe alone downstairs In his thoughts.
"Amara. Amara baby wake up" Joe said peppering kisses all over his wife’s face. "Mhmm Joe what are you doing" she groaned as she sat up. Blinking she looked around the bedroom noticing rose petals all over the bedroom along with candles and a big bouquet of flowers in Joe's hand with a suit on.
"Joe" Amara whispered feeling emotional again. "Look baby I know it’s not much, but I really am sorry. Im sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important. The fact I made you feel like I don’t love you I-" he choked up feeling emotions hit him. He made his wife feel that way. The love of his life.
Leaning closer to him Amara pecked his lips and wiped away the tear that fell down his cheek. "It’s okay honey I forgive you" she said making him put his lips against her soft plump ones and kiss her passionately. "I love you so much" whispering against her lips he gave her one last peck. "I love you too"
Standing up he held his hand out for her which she gladly took as he led her downstairs, going down she noticed the trail of rose petals leading all the way to their back porch.
"Oh my god Joe no you didn’t" Amara squealed as she saw the candle lit dinner he set up. Chuckling he pulled out her chair as she sat down with a big smile on her face, before taking a seat of his own.
On que a chef walked out with a silver platter with two plates of lobster pasta as he set them down as the married couple thanked him.
"Want some wine" Joe asked as he unscrewed the bottle. "Yes please" she moaned as she took a bite of the delicious pasta. "Taste good?" Amara moaned again as she took another bite making Joe laugh as he passed a glass of wine to her.
An hour went by and the married couple were finished their food as they were both a bit buzzed off the wine as they were laughing about old stories.
"Baby you know you were hella wrong for smacking her like that" Joe laughed as he took a sip of his wine. "Hey that bitch had it coming for rubbing on yo chest like that" She said with a shrug.
They sat in a comfortable silence as Amara looked out into the view she had from their balcony. Feeling eyes on her she looked in Joe's direction as he was just staring at her.
Blushing she quickly got shy under his gaze she whispered a "what?" As he just continued to stare before speaking. "You are so beautiful Amara my god" feeling shy again she looked down and smiled.
"Come here" looking up she saw him motion her with him fingers to go over to him, standing on shaky legs she walked around the table to him as he scooted his chair back so she can sit on his lap.
Placing her sideways on his lap she wrapped her right arm around his neck. He started to kiss all over her neck making her let out a small moan. "I wanted to ask baby does that pussy still get soaking wet for me? Mhm?" He asked still kissing her everywhere.
"You know it does Joe. Oh god I missed your touch so bad" she said as she pulled him in for a kiss as he happily kissed back, lightly grabbing her jaw as they made out sloppily as both of their breathing got heavy, her pussy getting wetter by every second. Grabbing his hand Amara guided it under her dress and onto her clothed lace panties. Joe pressed down on it feeling a wet patch making him smirk into their kiss before pulling out the kiss.
"This pussy wet for me?" Amaras head went into Joe's neck nodding, she started to grind her pussy on his hand as she let out a whimper but he quickly stopped her movements. "Joe please I need you so bad" she whispered, craving her husbands touch badly.
"Come on let’s go to the room I wanna try something" he lifted her bridal style before going into their bedroom. Laying her carefully on the bed, he took off Amara's heels kissing each foot before his kisses slowly went up. Spreading her thighs he kissed the inner part of them before fully pulling away and standing up straight.
"Stand up real quick for me" listening Amara stood before Joe sat on the edge of the left side of the bed directly in front of the big body mirror that was in the bedroom. "Come here and sit" he patted his lap as his wife quickly went over to him.
As she was about to straddle him he stopped her before making her turn and sit in his lap so her back was against his chest. "I wanna see you play with that pussy" his words shocking her, but she didn’t dare say no. Listening she looked in the mirror in front of her making eye contact with Joe as she took her panties off throwing it to the side.
Keeping eye contact she grabbed the end of her dress before lifting it over her head leaving her naked on her husband who’s still fully dressed in his suit. Grabbing underneath her knees Joe spread her legs as they rested in his hands holding her in place showing off how wet her pussy was glistening with her sticky juices.
Joe kissed her neck as Amaras hands went to her breast squeezing her nipples before trailing her hand down to her pussy. Fingers going to her clit she rubbed slow but firm circles against her bud making her body jolt a little from pleasure making her moan. Putting two fingers at her entrance she pushed them in as it made a loud wet sound across the room making Joe groan from hearing it.
Biting her lip she met his eyes again her mouth slightly open as her moans fell out of them. Fingering herself faster, her messy juices started running down her ass cheeks onto her husbands lap as she felt herself coming close to finishing. Joes right hand dropped from underneath Amaras knee making it plop down as he was still holding up her left.
"Okay that’s enough" he said gripping the hand she was fingering herself with. "Joe please let me cum" trying to move her fingers again, he pulled them outta her making her whimper at the empty feeling.
Grabbing her hand he placed her fingers in his mouth sucking her juices that were on it.
Standing up he placed her on the bed her back hitting the soft covers, looking down Joe saw the front of his pants stained with his wife juices. Smiling he took off his suit jacket before unbuttoning his white dress shirt and unbuckled his belt making Amara start to rub her pussy again watching him.
He smacked her hand making her pout before taking it back. "Did I say you can touch yourself?" "No" nodding his head he continued to unbuckle his belt before pulling his pants down making his dick spring up. Amaras mouth watered seeing his thick dick as well as the pulsing feeling In her clit.
Fully stepping out his pants, he grabbed his wife’s ankles flipping her around so she was on her stomach. She let out a small scream when her husband unexpectedly picked her up so she was upside down. Dick all in her face.
"Joe what the fuck are you doin— oh shit, mhmm" she cut herself off with a moan when she felt Joe’s tongue flicking against her clit. He lifted her up more against his face, putting his tongue in her hole. That action made Amara squeal, as the blood in her body rushed to her head. She gripped on her husbands thighs from the intense pressure.
She grabbed his dick and started to stroke it. "Fuck baby go ahead put it in your mouth" his voice muffled since his mouth was still on her. Listening she put only his tip in her mouth as she sucked on it slowly. It being a little hard since she was still upside down.
As if he read her mind he gently laid on the bed so they were now in a 69 position more comfortably he shifted her on top of his face as she took him deeper down her throat making gargling sounds as she sucked him off sloppily.
Joe put two fingers in his wife making her arch her back more before licking her from her clit all the way to the crack of her ass. The feeling wasn’t foreign to her but it definitely did shock Mara every time. Moaning around him she took him out her mouth slowly stroking him and licked his balls. spit was all over her hands and his dick. "Fuck Mara I’m gonna cum" "mhmm nut in my mouth daddy"
Putting him back in her mouth she bobbed her head up and down. Feeling his nut coming he reached over and held her head down, thrusting his hips up fucking her mouth. Groaning he came down his beautiful wife’s throat, as she continued to bob her head making him sensitive. "Okay b-baby stop" not listening she continued her actions.
Grabbing her hair he pulled it roughly making her back arch and her head hang back as he pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips moving together slowly as she scooted down not breaking the kiss as her bare wet pussy rubbed against his dick.
Joe pulled away from the kiss looking at Maras face as she gave him a smile. God was she beautiful. Her make up was smudge, hair messy but somehow she still looked perfect.
Laying back down Joe grabbed two pillows putting it underneath his head before motioning his wife over. Immediately understanding she crawled over to him until her left knee was on one side of his head and the right on the other. "Sit" slowly lowering herself she tried not to put all her weight on his face.
"Jesus Mara I said sit" wrapping his arms around her thighs he pulled her down to fully sit his lips tightly around her clit making Amara gasp as she tried sitting up a bit but Joe didn’t budge. His grip tighter around her thighs. "Fuck daddy I can’t take it" Amara screamed when he started shaking his head side to side while sucking harshly on her clit.
Crying out she tried pushing his head away, running, but he easily over powered her. Lifting her by her thighs with his tongue still working on her he picked her up, laying Amara on her back, quickly putting his fingers in her as he continued to feast.
"Oh my god, Joe I can’t I can’t" "yes you can. Cum for me baby you wanna be good and cum for daddy right?" He spoke fingering her faster. "Yesssss! Mhmm. Fuck I’m Cummin" screaming her orgasm took over her body. Squirting Joe rubbed her clit vigorously, her juices splashing everywhere, the bed, on her and him.
Her chest heaved up and down with her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. Hearing Joe laugh she opened her eyes confused. "What?" Pointing to her chest she looked down and saw that her breasts were leaking milk. "Holy shit" she said still breathless, "let me go wipe this of-" her sentence was cut off as Joe starting licking up the juices and milk that were on her boobs and stomach.
He was a nasty nasty man. She whimpered and grabbed the back of his head as he continued to suck on her sensitive nipples. Not him licking up their daughters food. Grabbing his dick he aligned it with his wife’s entrance. Sinking into her they both let out a moan.
Wrapping her legs around his waist and arms around his neck he began fucking her slow but his strokes were deep and long. Fuck did he miss being inside her it’s been so long since he felt his wife’s warm, tight pussy. "Do you miss this dick baby" Joe asked his right hand around her throat gently but firmly choking her.
She tried to speak but no sound came out. "Didn’t daddy ask you a question?" She gripped his arm when he started speeding up his strokes. "Yesuuuuhh I missed this dick. I missed you being in my pussy" rotating his hips he made sure she felt every inch of him.
"Yeah? Well I missed this pussy. Gripping me so good it’s like god made you just for me" grabbing her he switched positions so that she was now on top. Placing her feet on each side of him they intertwined hands as she began bouncing on his dick slowly. Lifting up till only his tip was in before going all the way down.
Kissing him he slapped her ass urging her to go faster making clapping and wet sounds fill in the room. "Mhmm fuck I’m close daddy" Amara announced. "Me too baby me too. Cum with me" Joe scooted down a bit and gripping her ass in his hands as he fucked her from underneath making her cry out.
Her upper body fell on his so they were chest to chest. "You gonna give me another baby?" Joe asked his arms around Amaras body still fucking her as their sweaty bodies were colliding. "Yesssss! Ima give you another baby. Please nut in me"
Her words triggering his orgasm making him pull her closer to him, if that was even possible. Feeling his warm cum inside her she came shortly after her body shuttering on top of his, before slowing down their movements as they came to a complete stop.
Both leaning to each other they shared a sweet kiss. "I love you so much baby I’m so grateful to have you in my life and to have you as my wife" Joe said pushing back her hair that was falling over her face. "I love you too and I’m so grateful to have you as my husband" kissing his lips she continued.
"My tribal chief" he stopped all his movements just staring at her as she stared back. "Don’t ever in your life call me that shit again" he laughed making her burst out in laughter before they shared another kiss.
I got a little carried away writing this ngl😭 I apologize if there was any errors
Hope you beautiful people enjoy it and requests are open if you want to request anything :)
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morepeachyogurt · 1 year ago
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i love you, i do, but i cannot fucking stomach you
1. richard siken | 2. david foster wallace | 3. slavoj žižek | 4. x? | 5. succession, jesse armstrong. gif by @lesbiankendall | 6. orla gartland | 7. trista mateer | 8. ilya repin | 9. iain thomas | 10. thoroughbreds, cory finley | 11. yrsa daley-ward |
text id below
1. sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them
2. [in red highlight] everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.
3. [white text on a background of a field] A FRIEND HAS TO BE OUTSIDE MY REACH, BEYOND MY GRASP. AND THERE CAN BE NO FRIENDSHIP WITH SOMEONE WHOM I AM NOT READY TO BETRAY: A FRIEND IS SOMEONE I CAN BETRAY WITH LOVE.
4. Long before Caesar and Brutus were lessons, they were friends. // They played with stick swords in their kingdom of trees // and dressed up in crowns of flowers // and painted mud on each other's faces. // The pair was often found walking down dirt roads, // Caesar stomping proud and tall, // and Brutus- step by step- placing his feet into the footprints left behind. // Caesar grew into a strong Roman man. // Brutus grew into Caesar's shoes. // They walked to a wishing well and they threw in their weapons // and Caesar whispered a prophecy: // "We live and die together." // The day before the slaughter, Brutus took pause. // He turned to Caesar and thought // "I'll love you twice as hard today to make up // for tomorrow," // and they stayed up and played cards on the kitchen floor. // It wasn't until the next morning that Brutus realized how cold the tile was. // Life and death are not mutually exclusive. // When Caesar died, so did Brutus, in the sense that he never really lived again. // In the present, when someone mentions one of them, // they seldom exclude mention of the other.
5. a scene from succession. the characters kendall and stewy are in a dimly lit alley, one walks away from the other while saying “you’re my third oldest friend. you fucked me like a tied goat. we’re great.”
6. I'm not happy if you're not happy // And swear that you're always sad // You're pathetic, I resent it // When you're down, it hurts so bad
7. I've gotten so good about not flinching at the sound of your name that people don't know I'd still throw myself mouth-open into the ocean for the chance to drown somewhere you might see it.
8. the painting ‘Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivana’. it depicts a man holding another man who is bleeding profusely from his head.
9. there are a million ways to bleed, but you are by far my favorite.
10. scene from the movie thoroughbreds. a character lays crying wrapped around her friend, she is covered in blood, her friend is unconscious.
11. [in pink highlight] and be wary of friends, yeah? they are the ones who kill you, in the end.
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absurdthirst · 7 months ago
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The Empress and the Gladiator {Gladiator!Pero x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14.2k
Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), loss of virginity, star crossed lovers, mentions of war/death, vaginal sex, mentions of sex workers, rough sex, blood/gore, death, animal cruelty, gladiatorial games, pregnancy
Comments: Destined to become Empress of Rome, your heart has always been Pero Tovar's. When your father decides to host an gladiatorial tournament with your hand in marriage as the prize, Pero becomes the gladiator you are rooting for in the colessum.
A/N: With Gladiator 2 coming out this year, thots turned to Rome. While reader is Empress, no physicality has been described other than 'Roman'.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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“Pay attention.” Your tutor, Maximus, tuts as you stare out of the doorway to the courtyard. Your scrolls are messy on your table and the breeze through your hair makes you long to be outside and not studying the gods. You hear the clashing of swords and watch as Pero Tovar fights his mentor, a man named Julius, while his mother tends to your needs. His mother is your matron, taking care of your needs like your own mother would if she were still alive. After her untimely death when you were born, your father had brought in a matron while he searched for another wife. He’s had two more since your mother’s death but he claims to be cursed as both women also lost their lives during birth…and their babies. The sole child of the Emperor of Rome, you are in line to be Empress. Something that has never happened. The man you marry shall be by your side and your father had petitioned the senate to allow you to rule, for him to mold you into the perfect leader for the next generation. The senate had agreed and now, you spend your days learning about Seneca and Cicero instead of painting or strolling the gardens. You have been taught to read, you know the laws of the empire, and you have been trained in all manner of war. You are preparing to become Empress of Rome. You just need a husband. Turning your eyes away from Pero, you look back at your scrolls and continue your lesson. Little do you know that Pero is also watching you. His mother, bless her soul, was widowed by his father who fought for the empire. He lost his life in battle and the Emperor let his mother stay in the palace with her son to tend to his newborn daughter. Pero knows he will be sent to train with the army soon. He will fight as his father once did. However, he will be leaving his heart in the palace with you.
****
You walk through the gardens after your lesson, Pero long gone from the courtyard, and you are caressing a flower when you hear your name. “Why are you here alone?” Pero asks, his voice gruff and demanding, “you should not be outside without an escort.”
You huff and roll your eyes, aware of and annoyed by the fact that if you were a man no one would even question you walking alone. “I am in my own courtyard.” You turn to look at the older Spanish boy. Even if you have grown up together, he has filled out with muscle and grown taller over the past few years. “I am the future Empress and I can go and do whatever I wish.” You straighten your spine even though you know your father would not approve of being alone. Too many of his enemies would seek to use you for their own gain. You frown and look around, all the servants out of sight and no one nearby to hear you. “Why are you here, Pero?”
Pero stares at you for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on your face, and he can't help but be reminded of how beautiful you are. When your face is carved from marble and the coins are gold with your profile, he will be one of many to admire your beauty. Your moxie makes him bite his lip to smother a smile and he waits until your eyes fix on him. "I am taking a stroll. Getting some fresh air and admiring the grounds before I have to leave." He sighs, looking down at the grass beneath his feet.
“That’s right, you are leaving……” you frown at the reminder that tomorrow morning he will be leaving for the war that is being fought near Constantinople. You have spent all of your formative years around the man who you have come to view as more than a mere childhood friend. You’ve never seen him as a brother and now your heart quickens at his nearness. “Tonight is your last night in Rome,” you venture softly. “You should make the most of it. Most men would be visiting the taverns, or the whorehouses that I am supposed to pretend don’t exist.” His head shoots up, eyes wide and you smirk. “Or do you prefer the company of the men in the bathhouses?”
Pero raises his eyebrows and he offers you a wry smile, “don’t you know it all, emperatriz?” He chuckles and you snort, “I even know about Hispania.” Pero is impressed by your knowledge of the reality outside of the marble walls you wander in. It will serve you well. “To answer your question, I wish to spend my last night here since I will not be able to return. My barracks will be my new home and I will miss this palace…and you.” He confesses, his dark eyes meeting yours, “I have no need for wine or for women when what I truly want is right in front of me.”
Pero is handsome, his dark eyes seemingly even darker with the same emotion that makes your core throb and turn slick with need. You aren’t unaware of what happens between men and women, even if you are untouched. Untouched beyond your own fingers between your thighs when you lay in the dark, listening to the rustle of the wind against the curtains of your bed. “Pero….” You step closer to him, biting your lip as you inhale deeply, aware your father would have you beaten and Pero executed, but you don’t care. He could die, never to return, and you don’t want to live the rest of your life without knowing what it is like to be touched by him. “Tonight, the future empress will entertain you.” You decide, telling him boldly. “In ten minutes, climb to my balcony.”
Pero’s cock twitches under his tunic and he bows his head, “I will be in your service tonight, empress.” He murmurs, knowing he could be hung for this but it’s worth it. You are worth it. No longer the little girl who used to annoy him when he wanted to play gladiator with his friends, he wants the beautiful woman you’ve become. The oils you bathe in hit his nose and he swallows, taking a step back from you. He looks around to make sure no one saw him speaking to you alone and he strides off, knowing that you will be able to make it back to your quarters alone.
The slap of your sandals accompanies the rustle of your skirts as you hurry along the columned corridor to your quarters. Servants rush to bow, but you pay them no mind as your excitement has you eager to lock yourself into your room. Bursting through the door startles your servant, Corda. “My gods!” She huffs and you shake your head. “Fetch me a tray and wine, then you are dismissed.” You instruct her, making her jaw drop. “But-“ “No buts, Corda!” You hiss, taking a breath and smiling at her to not make her suspicious. “I know you wish to spend one last night with Gavros.” You hum, smirking slightly at her guilty expression. “Fetch my food and drink and then go enjoy yourself.” Her lover is also in the group that Pero will be accompanying to the war.
She bows her head and turns, making her way out of your quarters to fetch your tray and wine. She returns a few minutes later and sets the tray down. “Good night, my lady.” She murmurs, turning and shutting the doors behind her. The gauzy drapes are flowing onto the balcony as Pero climbs the trellis to swing his leg onto the balcony. He grunts as he stumbles but recovers to stand outside of your room. “emperatriz.” He whispers, hoping no one is in your quarters.
“Pero?” You look through the sheer fabric to see him hovering outside and push them aside to usher him in. “Come in.” You command, hoping no one saw him climb up. You don’t wish for the night to be disrupted and you know that if Corda is off gallivanting, no one should come to disturb you. Everyone is celebrating the troops leaving and you are happy that your father is busy as well. He steps inside your room and the curtain falls into place, giving you the illusion of blocking out the world. “You came.”
Pero offers you a soft smile, his hands suddenly damp. “Of course, hermosa. How could I not?” He asks you, “I am leaving tomorrow and if I don’t return, I want you to know…I want you to know that I would kneel before you as my Empress, as your loyal soldier, as your friend, and if you’ll have me, as your lover.” He murmurs, not touching you. You are pure and he could be killed for even being in your quarters.
Your body trembles at his confession, knowing that you feel the same way. He can be coarse and cross at times, but you love him. Reaching up to your shoulder, you unhook the gold leaf brooch that keeps your dress on your body. Letting it fall to the floor so you stand in front of him, completely naked. “Take off your tunic, Pero.” You command, lifting your chin. “I wish to inspect my soldier.”
His eyes widen at the beauty before him. Your body bare and his mouth is dry, his cock hardening as he takes in a sight that most mortals will never bear witness to. He kicks off his sandals and reaches for the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head to display his naked body to your hungry eyes. He stands straight, arms by his side as he awaits your inspection.
You inhale sharply, taking in the hard planes and chiseled lines of his body. The rigorous training has taken the boy's soft body and turned it into the hard sculpture of a soldier, your warrior. He has given you the power and it emboldens you to step forward, reaching out and stroking the smooth muscle of his chest. Biting your lip when you feel it move under your hand and let it drop down to brush against the thick length that juts out proudly from his groin.
Pero groans under his breath, his eyes closing as he lets you touch him how you please. He stands still, not lifting his hands to touch you. You are in charge tonight, his soon to be Empress. You will have what you want because tomorrow, he will leave and this night will be a memory he cannot share with anyone.
“Beautiful.” You murmur quietly, looking into his eyes. “This is for me.” You don’t ask, because you know that it is. Your fingers wrap around his cock and you marvel at how hard and soft he feels in your hand. “How long have you thought of me?” You ask. “Do you think of me when you visit the whorehouses? When you sink into a woman?”
"Yes." He doesn't bother lying. After tonight, you will be betrothed to another and he will likely be killed in battle. He has tonight so he will give you everything, all he has to offer. "Every time." He confesses, knowing that he paid those women to be faceless, imagining you in their place. You jerk him and he groans, letting you touch him as you please and he prays to the gods that he holds off long enough to give you pleasure.
You moan softly, loving how he responds to your touch. His confession of thinking of you while fucking making your cunt drip. “When I slide my fingers into my cunt, I think of you.” You confess. “How you would feel, how you would taste.” You squeeze him slightly as he groans your name. “How you would touch me. You know of such things, you have touched women before. Can you make my body shake in pleasure?”
He nods, throat tightening with arousal as you squeeze him again. "I can make my Empress shake in pleasure until she can take no more." He assures you, "I have learned well from the brothels. I want to show you, emperatriz."
“I am supposed to be pure, to stay pure, until I take a husband.” You remind him. “But I will not be pure.” You let go of his cock and step back. “Because I will have given my purity to my love. The one who holds my heart.” You reveal softly.
His heart pounds in his chest and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist, and he leans in to press his lips to yours. He doesn’t want to hold back knowing he could die and never know your touch. He tilts your head to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and he backs you towards your bed.
Now that his hands are on you, he is in complete control. You moan, reaching up and twisting your finger into the short hair at the base of his skull. You can’t do much with it, but you tug gently, wishing it was longer. “Pero…” you whimper when he breaks away from his lips to kiss down your throat. “Pero, please, make me yours for tonight.”
He grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up to carry you onto the bed. He lays you down, the silk sheets beneath you and he hovers above you, taking you in. You’re gorgeous. Aphrodite incarnate. He leans down to kiss along your throat, his hand caressing your thigh as he settles between your legs.
You should feel exposed, vulnerable, but you feel nothing but the heat of his gaze. Again, your hands slide along his skin and you map the muscles. Knowing that tonight will be a memory that you will cherish forever, keeping it locked away in your heart. “You are so….sexy.”
Pero slides his hand along your thigh up to your breast and he tilts his head so he can dip down and take your nipple into his mouth. Your words make his cock twitch and his stomach clench, knowing you find him attractive. He loves it. He loves you. Your back arches into his mouth and he bites down on your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Pero!” Your eyes close and your back arches up from the bed to his mouth. Every pull of his mouth shoots straight to your cunt and makes it clenches. “Oh gods.” Your leg lifts and you rub the back of your foot against his leg, enjoying the roughness of his hair.
He switches to your other breast, loving the way you cry out his name. “Shush, my love. The guards will hear you.” He warns you, pulling back from your breast and he presses kisses along your stomach, settling between your thighs. Your cunt, covered by curls, has him groaning your name. You smell like the oils you use and something tangy that has him moaning as he wastes no time surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds.
Your gasp is loud, catching your breath and making your breast shake. Your hands grip the sheets and you can’t believe that he is going this. You’ve heard about the pleasure to be had, but you’ve never thought that it would happen for you.
He flicks his tongue over your clit just as the whores had taught him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his hands caressing your thighs and he groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. You taste like honey. He pushes your thighs further apart and slides his tongue down to push it inside of you.
“Oh fuck.” You moan, clenching your jaw before you have to lift your head and look down at him between your thighs. You had expected him to just take you, but he was surprisingly good at giving pleasure. “You should just stay and spend all day doing this to me.” You moan out the praise as your hips jerk up to meet his eager tongue.
Pero lifts his head from your cunt, his chin glistening as he smirks, “I would spend every day worshiping you if it were possible, mi emperatriz.” He assures you, sliding his tongue through your folds again and he sucks on your clit. His hand slides along your thigh until he’s pushing two fingers slowly inside of you.
His fingers are thick, so much thicker than your own. Making you whimper out his name again, drowning in the pleasure that he pulls from you as he presses them deep. “Yes.” You sigh. “I love you, Pero.”
He loves hearing you say that. His fingers stretch you out for his cock. He pumps them a little faster and leans in to take your clit into his mouth, sucking. He wants you to fall apart for him, to tell him you love him enough times to last him a lifetime because that’s what he will need.
You know that it’s wrong for you to give yourself to Pero. You should have saved it for the man who would become your husband, the man who would help you rule Rome after your father dies. You don’t care, your heart belongs to Pero and you want to give him a part of yourself you can never have back. You chant the words of love over and over as he works you up, until your entire body bucks with broken cry. Your cunt bearing down on his fingers and soaking them with your pleasure.
He loves the way you soak his fingers. Working you through it, he groans into your wet flesh. His cock is hard against the sleeping mat beneath you, and he is aching to be inside of you. He groans your name and kisses back up your body until his lips find yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.
The taste of your cunt on his lips has you moaning, enjoying the flavors mixed tongue and you want to taste him too. “Pero-“ you whimper, making him pull away to look at you as if he wonders if you have changed your mind. “Can I do that to you? Suck your cock?” You’ve heard the servants talk about it, even watched as it happened in the shadows, but you’ve never done it.
Pero's cock twitches at the thought but he can't imagine defiling you like that. Just to touch you like this is enough for him to be killed and his soul to be damned by Pluto. "I am yours for whatever you wish, mi amor, but I must warn you that you cannot do too much otherwise this will be over far too soon." He has wanted you for so long, watched you from afar, and the thought of you touching him in that way already has his stomach clenching.
You push him onto his back as you decide to take his pleasure into your hands. “You will tell me before you find your release.” You say it like it is a forgone conclusion and lean forward to press your lips to his. Then breaking away to kiss down his chest, eager to see how he reacts to your mouth on him. If you only have tonight, you want to gorge yourself on him.
His breath catches in his chest and he watches you make your way to his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and he loves the lust in your eyes. He loves how much you want him. "Fuck." He hisses when you pump his length, the foreskin pulled down to reveal the leaking head.
You preen under his rough praise, feeling the way he twitches and pulses in your hand and against your tongue. It’s thrilling to learn that he enjoys this and you open your mouth wider to take more of his length down your throat.
You moan around him and he twitches in your mouth, loving how you feel surrounding him. You feel incredible. “Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts as you explore his cock with your mouth and tongue.
Giggling slightly, you pull off of him and decide to lick him. Making him groan again. “You must love this, all the noise you are making.” You know that he can be as loud as he wants, no one is in this wing of your home beside you. You tease him and then lick him again. “Tell me what you have imagined while a whore’s mouth is on your cock.”
Pero can’t believe how naughty you are for an innocent woman. “I imagined - imagined this. You. Your mouth wrapped around my cock. My cock inside of you. You. I wanted you while I was giving them my cock, my coin.” He confesses breathlessly as you jerk his cock.
You hum, feeling slightly jealous of them, even if you cannot have a claim in this man. He is free to do whatever he wants, with whomever. Now, you just enjoy the fact that he wants to be yours. “You have me, Spaniard.” You promise, ducking your head down to take him back into your mouth.
He loves hearing you claim he has you when both of you know you only have tonight. He groans when you take him deeper and his stomach clenches. “Hermosa. You can’t - I don’t want this to end too soon.” He chokes, not wanting to finish without making you clench down on his cock.
Reluctantly, you let go of him and kiss back up his body. “You will stay the night, yes? We can do that again after?” You know men can find pleasure more than once and you hope that he is also like those fools who like to brag about being able to rut all night.
He nods, "I will stay there night then I will go before sunrise. We cannot risk getting caught." He promises and pulls you up so he can kiss you, rolling you onto your back. "Are you certain?" He asks softly, nudging his nose with yours after he pulls back from the kiss, his cock pressing against your thigh.
“I have never been more certain of anything else.” You promise. “Not the gods or the Senate could make me change my mind.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the thin strip of a beard of his face slightly patchy with youth. “I love you, Pero. Tonight, make me a woman.”
He doesn't deny you. He can't deny you even if he tried. He reaches between you to grip his cock, pulling back his foreskin to slide the head through your folds until he is positioning his cock at your entrance. He watches you as he starts to push inside of you.
You expected pain and you expected nothing. You really didn’t know what to expect but the feeling of him filling you up is exquisite. Your mouth drops open as you moan his name again, your legs pulling back to take him deeper into your body and you know that you are forever changed.
Pero feels your innocence break and he pushes into you fully, making you his in a way no other will have you. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, taking a moment to let you adjust and he murmurs, "I love you."
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck. Closing your eyes and sighing softly. A piece of you is forever his and you know that your heart is his until eternity as well. You might marry for your position and have children, but your heart will be this Spaniard’s. “I love you, Pero.” You promise him. “Forever.”
Your promise makes his heart clench as he starts to move inside of you. He's in no rush. Not rutting into you like he would a whore he paid his coin to. He moves slowly, watching your face as you take him. You close your eyes as he adjusts the angle of his hips and he grunts when your walls clench around him. "Mi emperatriz hermosa." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck.
You know that he is being slow with you and it’s amazing. Making you feel every ridge and vein in his cock as they scrub along your sensitive walls. It’s love making in the purest form and you don’t want to let him go. Another soldier can go fight for the Emperor and Rome. Even if you know Pero would never agree to that, finding it to be cowardice. You have tonight. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moan his name again. “Pero.”
Pero doesn't want to leave but he has no choice. He has no future here in the palace. He must leave and forge his own path. He has to accomplish something outside of these walls. He must fight for Rome and for the Emperor and one day, he will be fighting for you. His hand finds your thigh, lifting it higher so he can sink deeper and his lips find yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
Your moan is breathed into him, encouraging him. Letting him know that he is making you feel incredible. Your nails scratch down his back, not hard enough to break skin, but you wish to leave your mark on him. “Pero, gods, you- you are amazing. I have loved you for so long. Watched you fight in the courtyard and touched myself thinking of how you would touch me.”
Your words make him twitch inside of you and he groans your name, “always pumped my cock thinking of you. Fucked whores with you on my mind. You have my heart and I shall be leaving it here with you forever.” He promises, “you’ll have it until Pluto takes me.” He slides his hand between you, wanting to hear you cum one more time.
He is talented and you are lucky that he has been taught ways to please you. Making you moan again when he starts to rub the flesh above your cunt. “You take my heart with you to war.” You promise him. “It is yours, even if my body must be someone else’s, you had me first and you hold my heart always.”
Pero groans, rubbing your clit a little faster desperate to push you over the edge before he finishes. It’s overwhelming being inside of you and knowing that he will have to leave tomorrow, he is desperate to hear you cry out his name. “I’m yours, hermosa. I need to feel you.” He begs against your jaw as he presses desperate kisses there.
His words make your entire body tremble. You know your core is wound tight and the next time he plunges deep into your body, you shatter. Crying out loudly, your walls squeeze him tight and the liquid hot pleasure washes through you.
“Fuck.” He hisses as you clench down around his cock. He groans your name and tries to fuck you through it but he has held off long enough. It doesn’t take long, only a half dozen more thrusts, until he is pushing deep inside of you and filling you with his hot seed.
You close your eyes, memorizing how it feels and for a brief moment, you wish that you could have him stay and fill you up everyday until his seed takes root. Knowing that a child from Pero would be your favorite, even if he was a bastard. “Perfection.”
Pero kisses you, unwilling to move even as he softens inside of you. He murmurs your name and kisses you softly, caressing your thigh as you keep your legs wrapped around him. His heart aches knowing that this is the only time he will have you like this.
You catch your breath in the silence that lingers between you, both of you lost in your thoughts as you continue to stroke his back. “No wonder people love to take lovers.” You manage after a long moment. “If it is half as good as this, I know why the soldiers immediately go to the whore houses.”
Pero chuckles, “it isn’t as good as this because this is love making. The whorehouse’s are for fucking. This is love between us.” He knows that any man listening would hang him by his balls for being so soft but this is you and it’s your only night together. He won’t deny you how he feels when he won’t get to say it ever again.
“Oh.” You melt at how intimate it is, how romantic. It is like one of the great stories that is sometimes performed for the people. “We will never have this again, will we?” You ask practically, knowing that you could never love someone as much as you love Pero. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “At least we got to have each other tonight. Tomorrow you leave to fight for the glory of Rome and her Emperor.”
“And her empress.” He adds, nudging his nose against yours. He pulls out of you, groaning as he shifts to lay beside you before he pulls you into his chest and murmurs your name, “you will always have my heart. I will fight for Rome and for your glory.” He promises. 
“Fight and live.” You urge him. “I hate the ‘die for the glory of Rome’ shit. I would rather you live. Live until you are an old man, gray in your hair.” You caress his chest and press a kiss to where his heart thumps in his chest. 
Pero smiles, knowing it's unlikely he would grow old and even less likely he would grow old with you. He sighs and kisses your hair, "get some rest, amor. We have the night to enjoy before I must leave."
True to his word, Pero had taken you, again and again during the night. Rest only coming in small spurts before one of you was reaching for the other. On and on until your entire body aches with a secret hurt when the darkest part of the night passes and the faintest pink hue starts to gather on the horizon. The wine has been drunk, the food consumed and the water that is always available for you to clean yourself is dirty. Your eyes are gritty with sorrow and exhaustion as you watch your lover’s naked body begin to be covered back up as he dons his clothes. 
Pero redresses while you watch him and he kneels on the bed when he's ready to go. He leans down to cup your cheek, leaning in to kiss you deeply. "Be happy, mi emperatriz. Don't wait for me. Find your happiness however you can." He urges, knowing he could never be with you. Your father would forbid it. "I love you. Siempre." He vows and nudges his nose against yours, kissing your forehead before he stands up straight and walks over to the doorway to leave your quarters. He looks back at you one last time before he sneaks out of your chambers, unaware that his mother is watching from the shadows.
Your eyes close on bitter tears after the door closes behind him, burying your face in the sheets you had shared with him. The scent of his body still lingers and you weep for the love that you know you will never be allowed to share with Rome.
Señora Tovar prepares your tray and carries it into your rooms, finding the silk sheets rumpled, two empty goblets and an empty food tray. There's no denying what happened here last night and she is glad she has prepared a tea. "Good morning." She declares as she walks into your room. She had dismissed Corda to prepare your tray herself.
You pull yourself out of the sheets at the sound of your lover’s mother, biting your lip to keep from crying even more. “Good morning.” You manage to mumble, your voice cracking slightly.
She comes over to you, setting your tray down on the bed. "I have prepared a tea for you, chiquita. We know you cannot afford for my son's seed to take." She speaks bluntly, "you must drink this and your secret will remain between us." She doesn't want to witness her potential grandchild be shunned by society. She wants the best for her son and her family, she needs to protect you as well.
Your mouth drops open in shock as you stare at her. “I- you- you know?” You ask, practically gasping the question and she chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “It was not hard to guess when I see my son sneaking out of your room looking like a man who has visited paradise and been banished.” She tells you. “He has been in love with you since you were children playing together and I know those feelings have never wavered.” You bite your lip, chin trembling. “I love him, too, mamá.” You have called her mama - like Pero - since you were young. She had been like a mother to you, but Pero was never your brother, even from a young age, your heart skipped a beat when he was near.
She reaches out to caress your cheek, "I know, amor. I know you do. He loves you too. You are meant to be together in another lifetime. Your souls will meet in another time. You cannot pursue him. It will mean his death. Let him go and keep last night in your memory, mija." She cups your cheek and offers you a soft smile, "now...drink the tea. It will ensure you aren't with child."
You don’t want to drink it, wanting for a moment to let his seed take root and defy everyone. Looking into her eyes, you sigh softly and pick up the tea. “I would carry his bastard proudly if he wouldn’t suffer for it.” You tell her before you take a sip. “I hope he comes home. Even if it can’t be to me.”
She sighs, watching you drink it. "I know, amor. You would both suffer. You know your father would never allow it. He would have Pero killed." She closes her eyes for a moment, "one day...you'll be married with a baby at your breast and you'll remember last night but you'll be happy and Pero...he will be shrouded in the glory of Rome." She hums, "you'll meet again and when you do, you'll be different people."
You know that you will not settle. You will have a man who makes you feel as Pero does or you will not take him as a husband. “Yes we will.” You hum sadly. “He will be a general of Rome and I will be her Empress.”
*****
"You cannot continue this juvenile resistance." Your father scoffs while you sit at the dining table, servants carrying food and wine to you but you reject the food and take the wine. "I do not wish to marry a man I do not love. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?" You hiss back and your father clenches his jaw. 
"You have been a maiden for years. You should have married years ago and I am too soft. I allowed you to take your time, let you find a husband within our circles but you refuse. In the senate today, we discussed a way to ensure that the empress will have a suitable husband by her side. A tournament. I wish to have every eligible man fight for your hand in an arena."
You snort and roll your eyes. “Noble men would rather lavish their days away in the baths than fight, father.” You remind him, taking a sip of your wine. “Rome grows weak and yet you think I should marry one of them? What will they be fighting at? Who can belch the loudest?” You have had excuse after excuse to not marry, waiting for word from Pero as he is off fighting, but the years have passed and your father’s patience has given way to pressure from the senate.
"Not noble men. You need a warrior by your side. Someone who can assist you with battle strategy. You have not fought for our empire and you do not have the experience for war. You need a man beside you who can advise. You need a gladiator. I have requested the warriors of Rome to compete for your hand." He declares, "the General is particularly interested in your hand."
You grimace slightly but your father doesn’t see that. The general spends more time in Rome carousing than he does with his men in battle. You find him to be rude and demeaning, although you can never find someone nearby when he acts out. “Warriors.” You think of the warrior you would want and then look to your father. “Will all warriors be allowed, or only those you choose and rig the tournament with?”
Your father snorts, "I want a man who is battle worn and worthy of your hand. Any man can compete but it will be in the Colosseum and they will fight to the death. The hand of the future Empress is worth a man's life. He must die if he fails and you, my dear, will have the strongest warrior to be your husband, your partner after Pluto takes me."
Your brow raises at the news that it will be a fight to the death and you hum again, sipping your wine. “Sport will be had and a maiden won.” You snort, secretly pleased that you are not the maiden you pretend to be. “The crowds will love you for this, father.”
Your father hums, a smug smile on his face, "they will, won't there? We will send word to all that the best can compete for the hand of the most beautiful woman in Rome. The future Empress. May the best man win." He smirks, picking up his goblet.
****
Rome has changed since he has last been here. Pero frowns as he shuffles off the horse and groans slightly as he stands straight. He thinks of you, just he does every day and his eyes slide towards the palace where you would still be. “We got here just in time!” His friend, Octavious, slaps him on the back. “There is a tournament that will be held.” The barracks are rife with the news, every man boasting that he will enter. “The winner becomes the husband of our future Empress!”
Pero doesn't allow himself to react but he takes the scroll from his friend and reads the details. A tournament at the Colosseum - a fight to the death for the hand of the Empress. His jaw clenches and the scroll is ripped from his hand. His mother still resides in the palace caring for you. He will go see her now that he has returned and maybe he can see you. He situates his horse and makes his way through the bustling streets until he is at the palace gates. He grunts his name and he is walking through the gates to find his mother in her rooms. "Mi amor, you're home." She cries when she sees him, rushing to wrap her arms around him and he pulls her closer, holding her tight. He hasn't seen his mother in so many years and he's changed. So has she, she has gotten older but no less beautiful. "You're home." She grins, pulling back to cup his cheeks. "Mijo." She leans in to kiss his cheeks. 
"Where is she?" He asks, "I heard about the tournament." He says and she sighs, "yes. She is not happy. This has been the talk of Rome. It will not begin for a while to allow warriors to return to Rome to fight." She reveals, "she is in her rooms." 
Pero nods, kissing his mother's forehead. "I will be back, mama." He promises, knowing he needs to see you after being gone for too long. He remembers how to sneak to your rooms without being noticed and he's soon knocking on the door, heart pounding in his chest from seeing you for the first time in so long.
You sigh to yourself, almost ignoring the knock on the door. It would be Corda, having insisted that the servant wait for permission to enter your quarters if you were present. You are older and expect some privacy, a rarity here because of who you are. Setting down the wine that you had been enjoying, your sandals slap against the hard stone floors as you move to the door and open it. Making you freeze when you see a man in front of you. He’s familiar and yet so different. Darker, older and seemingly more menacing with a large and wicked looking scar bisecting his left brow. Evidence of surviving a nasty fight. The softness of youth chiseled away to leave nothing more than a fierce warrior, a man, standing before you. “P-Pero?!” You gasp, unable to believe that he is here. You know he is alive, his mother had kept you informed when she heard from him, but you are shocked by his appearance and your heart leaps with joy.
“Hola, mi emperatriz.” Pero greets you breathlessly. You’re just as beautiful but you’ve matured and you look like a leader. He offers you a small smile after a moment when you continue to stare and he knows he’s battle worn carrying scars - some visible, most invisible. “I heard about the tournament upon my arrival.” He confesses, “your father’s idea?”
At the mention of the tournament, you realize he is still standing in the doorway of your quarters for anyone to walk by and see. You know that it’s wrong, but you don’t care as you pull him into your room and slam the door behind him. He’s here. You have him back and now, with your father’s proclamation, there is a way for you to be with him. Instead of answering him, you throw yourself at him and press your lips to his desperately.
He doesn’t push you back. He’s seen war. Men die gruesomely in battle. Women and children killed. There were times when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever make it back. His hands grip your waist and he pulls you up against him, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he takes a taste of forbidden fruit.
Moaning, you press impossibly closer. Feeling the joy and passion you haven’t once felt since the day he left reigniting in your belly. You’ve not let another man touch you, remaining pure to his body alone. You know that he will have had other women but you don’t care. It had been your decision and now you are grateful that you had. Your fingers reach for the thick leather belt at his waist to untie it, not caring that he is dirty from the road, you need to touch him to make sure he is real and here again.
Pero knows he should push you away. He shouldn’t claim you again. Yet seeing you, how beautiful you are, remembering how much he’s missed you…it’s like he can’t control himself. He’s not gentle as he gathers your dress in his hands, tugging it up your body so he can caress your skin. “I missed you.” He kisses against your jaw as you push his tunic from his body.
“I prayed to Mars everyday to keep you safe.” You tell him frantically, your hands mapping his scarred body and you groan when your fingers wrap around his rapidly hardening cock. “I love you.” You declare breathlessly. “You said I should not wait, but I did. I have only been yours.” You confess. “Make me yours again, Pero.”
He groans, annoyed that you waited for him because you’ve given him hope. “I love you too. Never stopped.” He vows and guides you back towards the bed. “I’m not going to be gentle.” He confesses, his fingers sliding up your thigh until he’s sliding them through your folds.
“Don’t be.” You beg, knowing that you might be sore, but you will cherish the aches. He pushes you down onto the bed and you slide your dress up to your waist and hurry to unclip the shoulders. “I want my warrior to take the spoils of his conquest.”
Your words make his cock throb and he hisses when you expose your body. Your curves made his mouth water and he surges to dip down and take your nipple into his mouth while he settles between your thighs, gripping his cock to slide it through your folds.
“Pero…” you whimper his name, fingers digging into his longer hair and you love how you can tug on it slightly. “Tell me you didn’t marry.” You beg, gulping back a sob of pleasure when he bites down. “You didn’t find a woman while you were away?”
“I would not be here if that were true.” He assures you, “I wouldn’t betray your soul like that, hermosa.” He vows against your sternum and he starts to push inside of you. “You are still the woman I love.” He promises and you moan as he stretches you out.
Your eyes close and you feel complete for the first time in years. “Fuck.” You whimper, clenching down around him and making him hiss quietly. “That is what I have been missing.” You moan. “Move Pero, take what is yours.”
He doesn’t hesitate to start moving. No longer the younger version of himself making love to you. The desperate older man wants to fuck you, to claim you when he knows that you won’t be his to claim soon. He hisses when your walls flutter around him and he pushes deep when he thrusts back into you. His hand squeezes your breast and he nips along your neck until his lips smash against yours.
You feel the desperation and the need in his kiss, responding in kind. Your fingers drag out of his hair and you scratch down his back again as you rock your hips up to meet his frantic pace. “Pero! Oh fuck, Pero, you, harder- please, harder.”
He won’t deny you when he desperately needs this. He thrusts harder, his skin slapping against yours and his breath puffs against your skin as he pants your name. “So - so fucking perfect. Mi amor. Never stopped loving you. Fuck. I- I missed you.”
“Never stopped.” You gasped, arching up and moaning loudly. Unable to imagine anyone else touching you like Pero is. “Missed you every day. Every day.” You promise. Your body responds to his harsh thrusts and you feel your core start to clench down. Your fingers slide down to his ass and you grip it. Encouraging him as he pumps into you ever harder.
He grunts as you push him deeper and he shifts onto his knees, dragging you into his lap. His strong arms grab the back of your thighs and he lifts you up and down on his cock while he thrusts up into you. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groans, leaning in to kiss your shoulder.
You moan, wrapping your arm around his neck. Pressing your lips to his jaw as he fucks you frantically. You want this always, just him. “I love you. I love you, Pero.” You groan. “You feel so good.”
“Te amo, hermosa. I thought of - of you every day. Every fucking day I’ve been away from you.” He vows, thrusting up into you and his thighs ache but he’s desperate to feel you fall apart around him.
Every thrust pushes you closer to pleasure and you help him. Rocking down when he thrusts up, each one of you groaning and whimpering in pleasure. “I love you, I’m going to- fuck!” You cry out when he pushes deep. Throwing your head back as your cunt clamps down around him.
“Mierda.” He groans when you grip his cock inside of you and soak him. You feel so fucking good. “That’s it, hermosa. Fuck.” He pants, shifting to lay down and you shake as you shift to straddle him. “I want my Empress to ride me.” He orders, smacking your ass with his hand.
You giggle slightly, clenching down around him again from the sharp slap of your skin. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his as you start to rock your hips and moan into his mouth as you push your tongue to meet his.
He caresses your skin everywhere he can reach. Moaning your name as he watches you move on top of him. You aren’t as skilled as a whore but you haven’t done this before. Even with your hips moving a little rigid, he enjoys this far more than any whore he’s given coin to. His hands find your hips, helping you find a rhythm.
He moves you more naturally, making you moan as your tits are pressed into his face. “Pero…” your eyes roll back again and you hold tight to his shoulder as you follow his rhythm and ride his cock.
His mouth finds your nipple, sucking on it as he groans against your flesh. You’re so pliable and he loves how you take him inside of you over and over. Rocking back onto him, you let him control the rhythm and he bites down on your nipple before soothing it with his tongue.
He never wants to let you go. If he could stay in this moment, he’d stay like this forever. His cock twitches inside of you, watching as you take him over and over. His hands caress your back and he kisses up to your neck, aching to suck his mark there but he can’t, no matter how much he wants to.
“I want to feel you inside me again.” You pant breathlessly. “That feeling of your seed inside me was the best feeling I ever had.” You turn and press your lips to his, needing to be close to him in all ways.
He is selfish. If his seed takes and you marry another, his bastard will be killed. They would not allow a bastard to be the future emperor of Rome. His logic knows that it’s not a good idea but his heart and his cock desperately want to fill you up. His heart wins and he rocks his hips to thrust up into you, pushing you forward onto his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “I will fill you up. You’ll be dripping me.” He promises with a growl.
You whine his name and reach down to touch yourself, your fingers brushing against his cock as he rocks up into you. Stroking your flesh quickly as he groans your name, coming apart again with a soft cry. “Pero!”
When you clench down around him, he grabs your ass and thrusts up into you harder and faster, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own climax and it doesn’t take long. He hisses your name and clenches his eyes shut as he cums, painting your walls with his seed for the second time.
You moan softly, holding him tight and closing your eyes as he fills you up. The warmth spreads and makes you sigh in pleasure. “That’s so good. I love it, I love you. I want you.” You promise softly. “I- I want you for my husband.”
Pero sighs, stroking his fingers along your spine. “Your father would never allow it. Unless I win the tournament. I need to fight for you, mi amor.” He murmurs, knowing he could be killed but he has to try. He has to fight for his love.
You close your eyes, sighing softly. “Please tell me that you have become a fierce warrior?” You plead. Reaching up, you caress his face and press a kiss to the bottom of his scar. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost you once before and now you are back.”
“I am a great warrior. I have survived many battles and it would be incredible to fight for a cause I truly believe in: you.” He murmurs, “I will fight for you. For us.” He vows, “and if I die…I will die knowing that I fought for us. For our future…even if I never get to witness it.” He whispers, knowing it’s a risk but how can he stand by and watch you marry someone else?
You don’t want him to fight, but if he wins, your father would have to accept Pero as your husband. “You will be the only warrior I will be cheering for.” You promise, kissing his cheeks and then his lips. “You will carry my love onto the sands and defeat all others for my hand.”
Pero nods, caressing your cheek, “for you, my Empress.”
****
He lingers in your quarters for as long as possible until his mother finds him after you are dressed. “Mijo.” She smiles, “you must go before the guards see you.” She warns and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead and he squeezes his mother’s hand as he passes her, knowing he cannot remain in your quarters. He must prepare to fight. “I shall prepare the tea.” His mother says and you shake your head, “no tea.” Her eyes widen slightly but she won’t argue with you.
It is a risk for you, but you don’t care. Emboldened by Pero’s return, you are ready to risk everything. “Pero is fighting in the tournament.” You hope she doesn’t get upset at you for making her son risk his life again in the deadly games. “He will win and then you will longer be a servant in this house.” You promise. “You will have your own servant to attend to you.”
His mother is not surprised to hear that her son will be fighting. She’s concerned that he might not win and she will lose her son and the woman she’s come to love as a daughter. You will not survive the loss. She offers you a smile and a nod, not wanting to voice her worry.
****
“I want to win the tournament without too many issues. You know that I am the best man to marry your daughter. Your general. I am fit for war and she will not know of the issues we face on the battlefield. You have sheltered her and she will be a weak leader. She needs a man to guide her.” Atticus, the general of three Roman army explains to your father as they sip their goblets of wine. 
“She is naive but I have trained her well in all matters. It is true she needs a man to guide her in the subject of war. Perhaps you are the best candidate.” Your father hums and the general smirks, “then shall we call off the tournament and announce our betrothal?” He suggests but your father shakes his head, “no. We must show the people of Rome that the best man won her hand. You shall fight but let me make it easier for you. Let the riff raff kill each other and you shall be a late contender. You’ll have five men to kill. Maybe less. You shall be the victor.” Your father decides and the general grins, holding up his cup, “to the glory of Rome.”
****
Pero stands with his sword and his shield in hand, helmet on his head as he stands in line. There are many men here to fight for your hand and the hold beneath the colosseum is packed full of men eager to win you and the power of Rome.
The roar of the crowds fill the colosseum and you sit under the shade as warriors file out from the catacombs below to stand in the bright sunshine to bask in the adoration of the crowds. Blood will be spilt today and you wish that none would die, but the more violent the sport, the more entertained the Romans would be. Several from the senate come to greet you, but you keep your eyes on the sands, looking for Pero. He had said he would not fight with a helmet on so you can spot him. Ever since his return a month ago, he has come to your chambers every night to tangle his limbs with yours and leave you limp with pleasure and full of his seed. Your heart is twisted with worry and hope as you wait and look for your lover. Any moment now, your father will arrive to commence the games. 
Pero remembers his promise to you to survive and win, and so he sets his helmet down before he steps up onto the sands and winces as the sun hits his eyes. The warriors line up, prepared to fight to the death for the hand of the future Empress. He’d heard many men talk about taking your innocence, leaving your blood on the sheets, and he had to stop himself from killing them before the battle and from revealing the secret he holds close to his heart. He was the one to take your innocence all those years ago. His eyes dart up to the stands where you are and his heart pounds in his chest. This is his chance. His only chance to win your hand and the approval of your father. With his blessing, you could marry and Pero would be by your side until he dies. Your eyes find him in the crowd and he stands straighter, watching your father raise his hand. The crowd goes silent and your father begins to speak. “Today, you fight for Rome, for her honor, and for the honor to be by her Empress’s side as a leader to all Romans. You must earn this privilege and if you fail, you will die. May the best gladiator win.” He nods and the crowd roars back to life when the battle commences moments later.
It’s an impossible task, pretending to be uninterested in the games when your eyes are riveted to one man. You don’t blink, don’t look away for fear of missing some small thing that could be life or death for the man you love. He is amazing, his speed and skill are obvious as he moves, his sword flashing in the sun as he cuts down his rivals.
It doesn’t take long for the first round to be over. Covered in blood and surrounded by bodies, Pero takes the chance to look up at you. You are watching intently and he knows he can’t fail you now. At least two thirds of the warriors are gone. “And now…we introduce a new element…lions.” Your father gleams with maniacal joy as the lions are brought into the arena. The crowd cheers and you gasp “no.” Pero growls, “fuck” under his breath. This just got more complicated but he will kill a fucking lion if he has to.
“Something wrong?” Your father turns and looks at you with a smirk, but you shake your head. It’s already a needless slaughter of Rome’s most capable warriors, but if you show favoritism towards Pero, you are almost sure the games will be directed towards taking him out. You don’t trust the general to not cheat and he has not even stepped out into the area yet. “The tall one.” You tell him, pointing towards a giant of a man with a golden crown of hair peeking out from under his helmet. “He seems like he would be a good husband. Provide me with strong babies to further our line.” You lie, knowing that you would never accept anyone but Pero into your bed.
Your father smirks, “he is not Roman, my dear. He’s from the west. He will not provide the line you wish to have.” Your father declares and raises his hand once again, “commence.” He orders and the warriors begin to battle once more but this time, the lions are released. Pero grunts as his sword clangs with another, the roar of the lion behind him followed by a scream of a man who gets chewed up. Pero’s heart is pounding but he fights, knowing that he can’t lose. You’ll be married to someone who would treat you like a servant when you are destined to be Empress. You need a husband who will support you.
Your heart sinks, knowing now that your father will cheat to have the man he wants you married to win these games. The servants behind you fan the Emperor and you against the heat and you know it must be sweltering down on the hot sands. You gasp when the lion closest to Pero takes a swipe at him, narrowly missing his flesh with those large claws. “Gods.” You mutter, clenching your jaw as another man is dragged down by the great beasts. A splash of blood staining the sands beneath the carnage.
Pero’s chest heaves and he’s covered in sweat. Blood streaked on his body but it’s not his own. The sun is burning but he fights to stay alive, swinging his sword over and over until he’s facing a lion. The lion roars and he grounds himself, swinging his sword. The lion swipes him, making him hiss from the gash on his arm but he ignores it, focusing on killing the beast.
Your entire body tenses and you lean forward. Watching the fight between lion and man. You see the animal cut into his arm and you press your lips together to keep from crying out. You know that your father is watching the games, but he will notice you. You pray to the gods that the lion doesn’t win as you watch the beast lunge towards Pero and drive him to the ground.
Pero scrambles to protect himself with his shield while the lion snaps his teeth at him. He struggles and he sees his life flash before him in that moment and he sees the future he’s losing. A future with you and he won’t let that go so he swings his sword, driving it into the chest of the lion who roars and swipes but stumbles to the ground. Pero pants as he allows himself a moment to regain his strength while the battle continues around him until it’s him and one other man. Your father holds his hand up and the crowd goes silent. Pero’s chest heaves as he looks up at the balcony, waiting for the next announcement. If it’s a fight to the death one on one, he plans to win. “We have a late contender.” Your father declares, “General Atticus throws his hat into the ring.” He announces and the crowd cheers when the gates open to reveal the General in his gleaming armor.
“Father!” You hiss in annoyance, knowing that Pero is exhausted after fighting for hours, while Atticus has watched from the stands and is fresh. He turns to you and smiles, “he will be a good warrior beside you.” He declares and you know that Atticus will cheat. He’s a snake.
Pero rolls his shoulders, knowing that he has to wait until the other man goes for Atticus. He can regain some strength. The horn sounds and as predicted, the other man rushes towards Atticus who easily takes him down. The man was exhausted as is Pero but he won’t lose. He can’t. Atticus smirks as he withdraws his sword from the dead man and wipes it on the sand. “Give it up. You can’t win.” Atticus taunts Pero who growls, chest heaving. The two men appraise each other for several moments and Pero waits for him to make the first move.
You are on the edge of your chair, a small scream clawing up in your throat when you see Atticus attack. The lunge and slash is too close and you see that Pero is exhausted. You grip the arms of your chair as your lover spins away from the general and puts several paces between them. The general shuffles slightly, feinting a move to the left but then goes right, Pero watching and moving with him so he deflects the attack easily. “Mars protect him.” You murmur quietly.
Pero spits onto the sand, his throat dry, and his muscles aching but he refuses to yield. The general smirks at him, “you will never have her. Oh, Pero Tovar, I have heard all about you. How you have been in love with her since you were children. She isn’t yours to have. She will be mine. Rome will be mine.” He grins and surges forward. His sword slicing Pero’s shoulder and your lover cries out in pain. The general attacks again, slicing Pero’s side and he’s exhausted. He falls to his knees, his sword in his hand and his eyes turn to you as Atticus raises his sword.
You lunge to your feet, horror making you shout out the secret you have been keeping from Pero the last week. “I’m carrying your child!” You scream out, “Fight, Pero! I love you!” The entire colosseum is deathly quiet, waiting for the death blow to be delivered, so all of Rome hears your shame. You don’t care. You just want Pero to live.
Pero’s eyes widen as your scream echoes in the colosseum. You’re pregnant. With his child. His jaw clenches and Atticus stares at him in shock, momentarily distracted, and Pero jumps onto his feet, swinging his sword and within moments, Atticus’s head rolls across the bloodied sands of the arena. The crowd roars to life and your father stares in shock as the general’s body is sprawled out on the ground, his head on the sands, eyes wide in shock.
Screaming in joy, you refuse to even look towards your father, knowing that you just ruined his plans for your future rule. Tears start to stream down your face, ecstatic that your lover has won and will now have your hand in marriage per the rules your father set down. The thunderous applause of crowds are deafening, their approval meaning that there is no way your father can change the rules again. “Pero! Pero!” You shout, the crowd picking up on it and starting to chant his name through the colosseum.
Pero pants, exhaustion seeping into his bones and he wastes no time in rushing through the stands, making his way to the balcony, and when he swings his leg onto the balcony, he reaches for you and pulls you close. Pressing his lips to yours, he sighs your name and smiles against your mouth. His hand finding your stomach between you. You can be together. Finally, your father smiles and applauds but you can sense his disapproval.
The people of Rome witness your fussing over him. The frantic kisses and the happy tears they swear everyone in the stands can see. Your hands grab his face to caress and coo over him, overjoyed by the fact that he won. The sands of the colosseum are littered with bodies and blood, signifying how hard Pero fought to win. “I love you.” You promise him breathlessly. “I didn’t tell you before because I wanted to surprise you after you won.” You admit.
“Hermosa.” He murmurs, “I will protect you until my last breath.” He vows, “you and our child.” The crowd is applauding, roaring with screams of joy and your father waves to the crowd until he gestures to you and Pero who takes your hand as he approaches the edge of the balcony. Your father claps as you raise Pero’s arm and your lover grins as it sinks in that he has won. “Your future empress and her warrior. They will be wed in two days time.” Your father announces and the crowd cheers once more. 
“Come, my love, you need to wash and rest.” You coo and Pero nods, the adrenaline wearing off and he stumbles slightly as you guide him from the balcony to the chariot waiting to return you to the palace.
The ride back to the palace is quiet, neither one of you speaking, although children and dogs run beside the chariot. The children cheer and wave and the dogs bark as they race alongside the spinning wheels. You are elated that he won, but you need to keep him close until the wedding. Your father will be furious that you had slept with Pero, but hopefully your public confession will keep him safe. Once you are back at the palace, you order food and wine to be brought to the baths, intending on taking care of your lover yourself.
You guide Pero to the private baths of the emperor and yourself, the servants fetching the trays you requested, and Pero watches as you work on removing his armor. “You are going to be mine.” He murmurs, unable to quite believe it. You smile and continue removing the armor from his body, depositing it on the marble floor that surrounds the baths.
Once Pero is naked, you take a cloth and wet it in the water, washing his wounds carefully. “It will scar.” You tsk slightly, knowing that he won’t mind the additional marks on his battle riddled body. “Your victory will be the talk of the Empire for years to come.” You tell him, dropping the cloth and reaching for your own dress to disrobe. “Now you will reap your spoils.” You smirk. “An Empress, bathing you of your sweat and blood before she rides you. Sucks your cock like a common whore. Rome will be on her knees for you.”
Your words make his cock throb, already hard from the adrenaline, and his eyes take in your body. The knowledge that you are having his baby makes him inhale sharply and he groans your name, “my Empress.  You shall want for nothing. I am yours. Rome is yours.” He vows as you take his hand to help him step into the warm waters.
The warm water is soothing and you know that your lover is thirsty, so as soon as he sits down you bring him a cup of wine. “My Spaniard.” You hum, holding it up to his lips. “My love, my future warrior and the father of my children to come.” You coo as he takes a sip.
He swallows down half the goblet and after you set it down, he reaches for you so he can cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to show you how much he loves you. He killed half of Rome for you.
You go willingly into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and straddling his thighs in the water. Kissing him back with just as much passion as you can show him. You know that he’s both exhausted and invigorated and you reach for the cloth and soap. “Let me tend to you.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw as you pick up the goblet and press it into his hands to drink while you tend to him. “Relax and enjoy.”
Pero slides his hands along your back, enjoying the way you care for him. It’s tender and just what he needs after his body has been through hell and back. “Amor.” He murmurs, sighing when you kiss his cheek. The goblet of wine in his hand lowers slightly as his grip loosens. You start to wash him, his hair full of blood, and he watches you bite your lip in concentration.
You take your time, soothing his muscles with the heat and the wine. Knowing that the water feels good and being clean will feel even better. You might have been raised to be the Empress of Rome, but you want to take care of him. He has done so much for you. “My love. My brave and wonderful love.” You praise softly. “I was so scared for you. Even knowing you would win.”
Pero snorts, “you were that sure?” He asks, not believing you. “I know that you weren’t sure. Especially when those fucking lions came out. Your father…he’s a cruel man. Lions.” He shakes his head as you caress his chest with the cloth. “I thought I was going to fail when the lion was on top of me.” He admits softly, “but then you said you were with child and I couldn’t - I had to fight. Even if I was cut down. I had to try.”
“I’m glad you did.” You admit softly, leaning over and kissing his shoulder right above the wound he had taken from Atticus. “I would never wanted to be married to that man. He is just as cruel as my father, maybe more so. I have heard the rumors, and I’ve never liked him.” You soap up your fingers to wash his hair, knowing he will feel better when he is clean. “I missed my bleeding last week.” You explain quietly. 
Pero's cock twitches at the fact that he has gotten you pregnant but he remembers the way you screamed it. "You screamed it for all of Rome to hear, mi amor. The people...they will look at you as...impure and I do not wish to have that. We must marry as soon as possible." He murmurs, closing his eyes.
“I don’t care.” You promise him. “I would rather be known as impure and have all of Rome know I love you, than to be viewed as pure and have to marry Atticus.” You sigh softly. “I want to believe Rome would be happy for me. They cheered for you.”
Pero opens his eyes, "they cheered for you. They adore you. Their future Empress." He murmurs, "carrying their future Emperor. They would be fools to cast you aside when you simply followed your heart." He groans when you rub your fingers against his scalp.
You smile as you watch him relax, his eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of your hands in his hair. “They cheered for us, for we are the future of Rome.”
Pero smiles, knowing that it’s always been you. He’s never loved another. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass as he starts to harden beneath you. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I never - siempre - I always imagined I’d have to watch you marry another.” He confesses, “but now…you’re mine.”
“I am yours.” You promise, picking up a clay pitcher to pour clean water over Pero’s hair. “And as soon as I finish, you are going to sit while I ride your cock and bring you pleasure.” You hum.
“Mmmm mi amor, I would love to let you use my body for your pleasure.” He murmurs, tilting his head back to let you wash the soap from his hair, the blood washing away. His cock is hard beneath you, “mi emperatriz, full of our baby.” He groans, his hands squeezing your ass.
“Full of your baby.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his. “I refused to drink your mother’s tea after you returned.” You admit, wanting him to know that you had no reservations about carrying his child. “If there had been no tournament, I would have asked you to flee Rome with me.”
Pero sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek, “I couldn’t ask that of you. You have been raised to lead. I could never ask you to abandon your empire.” He sighs, “but I would’ve followed you anywhere.”
“That is in the past.” You reach between you to wrap your fingers around his cock and line up so you can sink down on him. “You will be my right hand, the sword and shield of Rome.” You predict as you slowly start to take him into your body. “Leader of my armies and master of my heart. My gladiator.”
Pero’s breath hitches as you sink down onto him. His hands find your waist and his lips press against yours once more. His tongue sliding into your mouth, and he savors his victory. He was nearly killed but he survived, he won. He can enjoy his reward…you.
****
“The general approaches.” Your servant announces it as if you do not see the crowds parting for the large retinue of soldiers, the crests of the regiment held high and the confetti littering the streets for the celebration of your husband’s victorious return to the capital. Your hand idly rubs the large, swollen bump under your breasts where his child safely lies. Kicking at the noise and feeling your happiness at Pero’s return. In the last eight months, your life has changed. You married Pero, ignoring your father’s unhappiness at the union since it was the best thing for Rome. Your father had passed away in his sleep days later, making you the Empress of Rome and your baby its future heir. Pero had been made the top general of your armies and had been dispatched to bring peace to your lands. Successful, he is now returned to you and hopefully, the expensive wars will be no more for a long time. You smile at the crowds, but your eyes are fixed on the noble figure of your husband as his horse canters up the streets, his dark eyes meeting yours.
“Gods, she has gotten big.” He murmurs to himself, riding up the steps of the palace where you are standing and he swings off of his horse as the crowds close in below you. A servant takes the reins as Pero strides over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks to kiss you deeply in front of the people of Rome. The crowd cheers and Pero caresses your bump. “I’ve missed you, emperatriz.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his. “I missed you too, my gladiator.” You whisper and he smiles, waving at the crowds as he steps back to take your hand. “I need you now.” He demands, escorting you into the palace and you try to keep up as he guides you to your quarters.
Pero’s long strides eat up the marble flooring between the front of the palace and the quarters you had taken for yourself after your father passed. The furnishing had been replaced and the room to the side that had been used for his mistresses had been turned into a nursery for your future child. His eagerness to touch you has you giggling as you are practically dragged along the corridor. Despite your advanced pregnancy, it’s obvious that your husband desires you. “I have missed you between my thighs, husband.” You tease.
“I missed you more than you can imagine, amor.” Pero pushes the doors open, slamming them behind you when you’re inside and he wastes no time dropping to his knees on the marble floor and pushes your dress up your body. His hands caress your bump and he surges forward to bury his face in your curls, his tongue sliding through your folds.
“Pero!” You cry out in pleasure as your sensitive body reacts to his skilled tongue. You had learned so much about each other’s bodies when he had returned and you were sneaking him into your bed every night, but after your marriage, your couplings became even more blissful. Pero is an attentive and giving lover, you don’t doubt that he had been faithful to you while he was away for so many months despite knowing that others take their ease with the whores that follow the army. “Fuck, your tongue is so good. I have missed you beside me at night.”
He groans, missing your tangy taste, and he hisses as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Your bump prevents him from seeing you but he groans as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He’s dirty from the road but he doesn’t care as his hands slide along your legs, caressing your skin while he works you over with his tongue.
Pero eats your cunt eagerly, with a hunger that sometimes takes your breath away as he pushes your body towards pleasure. “Pero.” You whine, holding steady to his shoulders when he lifts one of your legs to his thigh to delve into you deeper. “Make me cry out and then I want you deep inside me, want to feel you fill me up again.”
He wants to push you over the edge. Sucking on your clit, he can feel how close you are and you tug on his hair. His cock is aching for you and he wants you to cum for him. He flicks his tongue over your clit and pushes it deep inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit.
Your stomach heaves and your fingers dig into his hair and tug when you come apart. “Pero!” You scream his name, your eyes rolling back as you soak his tongue in your pleasure. It makes your legs tremble and threaten to buckle but you know his strong arms will keep you upright.
He grips your ass, keeping you upright, and he works you through it, loving the way you moan as you come back down to earth. He caresses your skin and lowers your leg back down. “Come on, amor. I want to be inside of you.” He stands up and takes your hand to guide you over to the bed. He unclips his breast plate and sets it down, his leather tunic swaying as he works on untying it to expose his body to your eager eyes.
“My love, my gladiator.” You moan, his strong body always making you feel desperate for him. He is still strong, even if he is not as lean as he was when he had left you before when you were nearly still children. His cock is hard and jutting out proudly, making you moan. “After you have bathed, I want to be on my knees for you again. Have you sit on the side of the baths while I take you down my throat.”
Pero knows he won’t win if he argues with you that you shouldn’t do that in your condition so he doesn’t protest. “Hands and knees, mi amor.” He knows that’s the most comfortable position for you right now. He kneels on the bed as you shift onto your hands and knees, the baby bump beneath you as your toes dig into the bedding. Pero pumps his cock as he shuffles closer and he positions himself at your entrance before he starts to slowly push inside of you.
Your eyes close, cunt squeezing him tight as you moan his name. You’ve never had another lover but you know that no one else would be as good as your husband. He twitches inside you, making you whimper. “I want it hard, Pero.” You beg. “It won’t hurt me and I crave the ache.”
His hands caress your back down to your ass, pushing your dress higher to expose more of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “I love you. Mi emperatriz.” He vows, “I am yours. I serve only you.” He promises and he rocks into you a little harder like you want.
You moan quietly, loving how he adores you. Anyone else would have been hungry for what power you could provide to him, but Pero doesn’t care about that. You are his priority. “I love you.” You gasp out. “You are my Emperor. I give everything to you.”
Pero groans, leaning over you to press his lips to your neck. “I love you. You are everything.” He never wanted to be Emperor. He never wanted the power. He only wanted to be with you, to have you. Even if it meant running from Rome. You’re his life. “My Empress.” He murmurs, rocking into you a little faster, his hand sliding down your bump until he’s pressing his digits against your clit.
You moan his name again, frantic to cum around his cock after so long without him. Pleasure rockets through you and you push back against his thrusts eagerly. “Pero- Pero, I’m going to cum!” You cry out, seconds before stars burst behind your eyes and you clamp down around his length.
He grits his teeth when your walls grip him. He fucking loves it. He’s missed you so much. This is why he could never fuck a whore. No one has ever made him feel like this. He pants against your back as he rocks into you, “fuck. I- I’m gonna fill you up.” He grunts, pushing into you a half dozen more times until he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed. “Te amo.” He pants, breathing you in.
“I love you too.” You slowly roll to your side, Pero still buried inside you so he can stroke your belly and both of you can relax. “You are home now. No more wars until our second child is at least five.” You hum, knowing the people of Rome are tired of costly wars.
“Your empire is secure. Your people love you. We shall be legendary. Our family, our children will be remembered forever.” He murmurs, caressing your belly and he kisses your forehead. “You are my Empress. I would die for you. I would kill for you.” He vows and you stroke his cheek. He already killed for you. Your gladiator. You and Pero were always meant to be and the history books will write of your epic love story. The Empress and her Gladiator.
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cryobabiess · 25 days ago
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Can you write a fic where the reader came to the palace as a new and untouched slave and is really beautiful (also her body). And like Caracalla and Geta want her but she is sassy and refuses but the second they touch she is really shy and acts innocent because she is a virgin but they didn‘t know?
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Inter Duos Deos
pairing: Geta x Reader x Caracalla Tags: Light nsfw, implied threesome, dubcon
AN: Reader is named after the gorgeous Sherouk Farid 👀 Enjoy!
It is a miracle by your god that you've kept your virtue intact considering your unfortunate circumstances. The Roman army was civil enough to transport the female prisoners of war on a separate ship from the men. You quickly understood this not as an act of mercy, but of preservation.
A general dressed in leather regalia had grabbed you by the flesh of your arm, separating you from the other women being rounded up like cattle. He inspected you with an intrusive eye, hardened gaze lingering on the linen tunic falling off your shoulders. He forced your jaw open and ran his finger along your gums and the flesh of your cheek.
"This one appears to be in good health. No signs of disease, and quite the sight. Bring her to Palatine. They should find good use for her there. Atilius will deliver her."
They brought you to your conqueror's palace, where you were cleaned and perfumed with incense and oils. The servant girls offered wisdom as they plated your long hair into ornate braids. In hushed whispers, they warned against looking the Twin emperors in the eyes and urged you to keep your head down; do not show fear, for they will revel in it. Back home, amongst the grain fields where you laboured, there was talk of the two holy sons of Rome and their lust for blood and war; it was only a matter of time before they exercised their divine right and sent their men to the shores of your humble village.
As you stood before the great god emperors Caracalla and Geta, with hair and robes spun from gold, you thought they looked more human than what the rumors described.
"My lords, It is my greatest honor to present the spoils of yet another successful campaign!" An older man with thick black kohl lining his eyes pushes you towards the center of the throne room, gold bracelets chiming with his enthusiastic movements.
You discreetly glance at the twin emperors through your eye lashes only to see the elated grin of Caracalla, who eyes you like a starved animal. His aquamarine irises travel the length of your body, lingering on the round of your hips. The servants dressed you in nearly transparent chiffons and delicate gold jewelry, as per Caracalla's request.
"Such beauty you've brought us, Atilius! And to think you found it amongst savages." He jovially exclaims, leaning back against his seat.
"From where does she hail?" The taller brother, Geta, stands from his gilded throne and descends down marble steps. His dark gaze, though equally as ravenous, is more calculated than his brother's.
"From a small conquered village south of Aegypti. And salvaged from a grain field, none the less! Like a jewel plucked from dirt."
"Does she have a name?" Geta inquires.
"Is she pure?" Caracalla interjects.
You speak before your handler speaks for you.
"I am named Sherouk." You declare the name your father gifted you with pride and meet Geta's domineering gaze. He startles at your confrontation, his once pleased grin straightening to a hardened line. Atilius raises his palm to strike you, but Geta catches his hand before it makes contact with your cheek.
"Leave us, Atilius." He commands, unbothered by your words. Your handler looks at you with unease before dutifully retreating from the throne room.
"How bold! She will make for interesting nights. I want to be the first to taste her, brother." Caracalla laughs, sufficiently entertained by your futile resistance.
"I should sooner die by the blade on your hip." In the mere seconds it took to say the words, outrage erupted in the throne room. Caracalla stood from his seat in an instant, fingers hovering over the dagger sheathed at his belt as he strides across the marble floor. Geta holds the space between you and the spurned emperor, his palm colliding with Caracalla's chest.
"Peace, Caracalla, peace."
"Why do you permit her to insult us?! Allow me to grant her dying wish!"
Fear strikes you then. You hold your head high, close your eyes, and prepare to feel the cut of a blade, but it never comes. Instead, you feel the feather-light touch of a pair of hands ghosting over your shoulders, cold metal rings brushing down your exposed breasts and the supple curve of your womb. You gasp at the foreign sensation, your body tightening and your sex awakening. You open your eyes to see Geta's arrogant expression. His fingers dip lower, pushing past the thin layers of your dress to glide through the folds of your cunt. Caracalla's rage is replaced with curiosity as he watches his brother raise a single digit to his mouth to taste your essence. A shaking breath escapes you along with your feigned bravery. Desire takes hold.
"Ah, I understand now." Geta exchanges a knowing glance with his brother. Your facade of strength has been compromised.
Intrigued by your obvious arousal, Caracalla positions himself behind you to take greedy handfuls of your tits, his thumbs plucking at your hardened rose-bud nipples.
"Is it true, brother? That a bitch that guards riches barks the loudest." Caracalla rests his chin on your shoulder as he kneads your tender flesh in his hands. You can hear the smile in his voice.
Geta takes your face between his palms, caressing your flushed cheeks.
"Sweet Sherouk," His low voice is as saccharine as molasses, but false. "what riches do you guard?"
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xoxochb · 2 months ago
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— two reverse ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.
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warnings: none! pairing: jason grace x fem! reader a/n: I feel like someone did this before can someone lmk because if so I’ll take this down
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it was pathetic that someone your age was afraid of something uncontrollable, yet when it came to thunderstorms you couldn’t help yourself. it also happened that your boyfriend was the son of the roman lightning god, ugh. but it also worked out in a way because during these said thunderstorms you’d have the perfect excuse to sleep in his cabin. which leads to what you’re currently up to: hiding from the world in the warmth belonging to jason grace. your head is nestled tightly under his chin, his hands rest on the skin underneath your shirt
and it’s incredibly serene, the moment your in. and it almost makes you forget why you had came here in the first place, and you surely would have if it wasn’t for the loud thunder strike that caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. jason takes notice of your scared demeanor and quickly attempts to think of a distraction
“do you know how lightning is made?”
you furrow your brows and lift your head up to look at him. “are you going to nerd out on me?”
he rolls his eyes but a soft smile on his lips gives his mood away. “yes, I am”
you smile yourself and nuzzle your head back into his skin before beckoning him to explain. he kisses the top of your head before beginning:
“well it starts off in the cloud when positive and negative charges separate from each other and this creates an electric field between the top and base of the cloud. when the charge becomes strong enough lighting strikes. the negative charges in the cloud are attracted to the positive charges in the ground— have you ever heard of “opposites attract”? that’s basically what happens— but anyways, the protons rush up to meet the electrons and that’s basically it”
jason feels you smile against his skin when he finishes explaining, not long after you speak, “you are such a fucking nerd!” you laugh and sit up again, cupping his cheeks between your hands “what other nerdy facts do you have for me?”
“what? you just called me a nerd why would i tell you anything else?”
“you’re intelligence is sexy, now go on”
a pink hue covers his cheeks. nonetheless, he thinks for a moment before his next (unpleasant this time) topic comes up: “did you know rats killed about seventy five million europeans in the middle ages?”
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rxqueenotd · 16 days ago
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In the Roman world, damnatio memoriae was used to describe a range of actions taken against former leaders and their reputations. These actions included: defacing visual depictions, removing heads from public statues, chiseling names off inscriptions, and destroying coins.
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summary: reader, who goes by 'Prima’, was raised by a powerful Roman consul, under the reign of Imperator Septimius Severus. When it comes time for his eldest son, Caracalla, to marry again, a chain of events is set off, changing the course of Prima's life and the lives around her.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
warnings: oral m receiving, arranged marriage, foul language, mentions of blood, bodily fluids, Ancient Rome as a warning within itself.
notes: i am tired. no big notes today, just the chapter and a huge thanks to @trashmouth-richie for beta’ing for me even though we’re dying and surrounded by the plague.
⟡ Imperator- Septimius Severus
⟡ Augustus- Marcus Aurelius Antoninus “Caracalla”
⟡ Caesar- ⟡ Publius Septimius Geta “Geta”
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III
“Brother,” Caracalla chuckled, surrounded by the finest of the court—his beloved whores, concubines, and every fair face that caught his eye—turned to his sibling, “have you laid eyes on my wife?”
Geta, his fingers entwined with his main flame to his right, shook his head slowly. “No, the better question would be: have you seen your wife?”
A silver platter brimming with powder was offered to Caracalla, who eagerly partook, stumbling backward, snorting and sniffling, until he finally crashed into his gilded seat.
“I thought we agreed to save the Rhino’s Horn for Saturnalia,” Geta shot a glance at the bearer of the silver dish, waving them off.
“Why not seize the day, brother?” Caracalla replied, “Father has departed for uncle’s villa, my wife is… well, lost to me at the moment, but that matters not. Let us enjoy these days of luxury.”
The two had been drunk for much of the day, with Caracalla lost in a haze of whatever was handed to him: Devil’s Breath, opium, Rhino’s Horn—none mattered. If it was offered, it was his. Geta, however, stayed pleasantly tipsy on sweet wine, his cup never empty, his tongue loosening enough to spill secrets like a river.
“Brother, I must share something with you.” Geta’s gaze met Caracalla’s, who leaned in, all ears.
Caracalla clapped his hands, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “At last, something of interest! Amuse me, brother.”
“Gracchus’s wife,” Geta began, “on the night of your wedding, her lips were wrapped so divinely around my cock.”
Caracalla nodded, interrupting, “A wondrous thing, indeed.”
Geta pressed on, “And Prima came to my chambers, asking to help you to bed while you were busy with one of your legendary displays.”
This piqued Caracalla’s interest. He sat up straight, eyes locked onto Geta’s face, lips pressed tight, nostrils flaring.
“And?” he urged Geta to continue.
“And, well, I commanded her to stay, to savor the moment.” Geta caressed the cheek of the woman at his side, who purred in delight, momentarily diverting his gaze from his brother.
Caracalla, though not entirely impressed, was curious. He grasped his brother’s arm firmly. “And she complied? She truly remained and watched?”
“Yes,” Geta affirmed with a nod, “who would dare refuse the command of a son of the emperor?”
Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face before he leaned down and whispered to one of the servants who knelt before them, awaiting his command.
It wasn’t long before you made your entrance into the chamber, a mix of confusion and acceptance washing over you at being summoned after a week of silence. You stood before the two brothers, maintaining a stoic expression while disregarding the crowd surrounding them, who now beheld the new Augusta. Most gazed at you in wonder, some wore expressions of intrigue, while others looked as if they were ready to eat you, relishing every moment they stood in your presence.
“Has someone died?” Caracalla asked, his brow furrowed as he took in your appearance from head to toe.
The toga you donned was a careful choice. Its deep black hue a sign of mourning, a garment you had worn through various times of grief. The black veil draped softly over your shoulders, trailing down the back of your dress and nearly brushing the floor, swaying gently with the warm breeze that flowed in from the balconies on either side. You adorned yourself with jewels—a delicate headpiece that held the veil in place, a gift from the Imperator himself, paired with his late wife's stunning collection of rubies that gleamed on your fingers. A golden cuff encircled your bicep, intricately designed with fine lines weaving a lace-like pattern, complemented by matching earrings and your family’s cherished wrist cuffs, passed down through generations.
“No one that I know of,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your voice. “I just figured that if I dressed the part, perhaps the gods would take notice of my urgent prayers and send me off to the underworld with haste.”
A chorus of gasps filled the room, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning.
Caracalla staggered over, getting right in your face.
“Everyone, out!” he barked, his eyes locked on yours. When no one moved, he shouted, “Get out or live to regret it!” That was all it took for the crowd to scurry away like frightened mice.
“Tell me,” he said, dragging a finger down the bridge of your nose—an odd move, but on-brand for Caracalla, “did it make your cunt throb to see my brother getting his cock sucked?”
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “Do not talk to me about implied infidelities when you’re surrounded by people the likes of which do not even make a good meal for a dog.”
Caracalla's expression shifted to a dangerous glint, his lips curling into a smirk. “Ah, so we’re playing at words now, are we? You think you can wound me with your tongue? I have better plans for that mouth of yours.”
“Brother,” Geta said, rising to his feet, “don’t do something you’ll come to regret.”
Caracalla pulled a dagger from his belt, pointing it at Geta. “You’ll sit down and keep your mouth shut, brother.”
And there you were, caught in the middle of two prideful men, like a sweet nectar drawing them in.
Geta lifted his hands in a gesture of defense, retreating toward his chair in defeat.
“On your knees, wench!” Caracalla bellowed, fury blazing in his eyes like a stormy sky.
Your gaze flickered to Geta, but Caracalla, with the edge of his sword pressed against your cheek, forcefully turned your head to face him.
“Is it not enough that you dared to speak with him? Must you also look upon him in my presence?” Caracalla whined, his naturally raspy voice sounding even more gravelly in his drug addled state.
“Are you deaf?!” he roared, “On your knees!”
You felt the cold of the sword as it slid from your cheek to your neck, pressing firmly against your carotid. With a heavy heart, you sank to your knees, shame washing over you.
As you gazed up at him, angry tears welled in your eyes. The golden laurel wreath tangled in his wild hair sat crookedly above his brows, as he looked down at you with a wild glint.
“Show me how well Gracchus’s wife treated my dear brother!” he cackled, delighting in the raunchiness of his demand.
“Absolutely not,” you spat through clenched teeth, attempting to rise once more, only to be met with his rough hands shoving you back down against the cold marble.
“Must I flog you for your insolence?!” he howled, spit flying from his lips, “Must I?!”
“Not here,” you pleaded, all pride abandoned as your knees ground into the cold marble, “Not like this.”
“Just like this,” he replied, smirking down at you as he pulled back his flowing robes to reveal his hard cock.
“Come on,” he flicked his tip against your lips, “open up for me.”
With angry tears stinging your eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, his velvet tip sliding past your lips, brushing heavily against your tongue.
“Should you dare use your teeth against me, I’ll have them knocked from your jaw with the hilt of my sword. Rome has no place for a wild, toothless harlot.”
He carelessly rolled his hips toward your face, swaying unsteadily with each thrust as you fought back the bile rising in your throat. When you didn’t please him the way he wished, he fucked your face with such fervor that he nearly lost his balance. You gagged as hot tears streamed down your cheeks, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth like a hungry dog.
“You must not have impressed her with your little show, brother,” he bellowed over his shoulder, gripping the roots of your hair, chuckling as you gagged even harder, pressing your nails into his thighs for fear you might topple over. “I have had better pleasure alone.”
He continued his brutal assault until finally he pulled you snug to the base of his cock, letting out a guttural groan, his legs nearly giving way beneath him as he released his hot seed into your mouth.
He stumbled back, shaky hands letting you go, but not fast enough to dodge the glob of cum you spat at his feet.
“You stupid whore—” he screamed, reaching for his sword again, but Geta grabbed him.
"‘Enough, brother,’ Geta commanded, gesturing toward the door. At once, two guards rushed in, seizing Caracalla, wrestling the blade from his grip, placing it firmly in Geta's hand.
A smirk crept across your lips as you met Caracalla's furious gaze, his struggles useless against the guards' hold. You wiped the last traces from your mouth, unflinching, while he spat threats of every punishment under the sun. His voice faded into the distance, growing fainter with each step as the guards dragged him away.
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As soon as you stepped into your chambers, you snatched up a decorative vase, your stomach churning from the memory of his touch as you unceremoniously emptied its contents into the vase. A pang of guilt washed over you for the poor servant who would later have the misfortune of clearing it out, but you quickly brushed it aside; purging any trace of Caracalla from your system took precedence above all else.
As you crossed the threshold to the adjoining balneum, the air was thick with steam, a sensation that caused you to groan in pleasure. The gentle sound of water splashing filled the space while the frescoes adorning the walls told stories of playful nymphs dancing amongst the clouds lost amongst a blue sky. The buff marble floor cooled your feet, contrasting with the warmth of your skin.
The bathing area itself featured a large, sunken pool, its waters shimmering under the soft glow of oil lamps. To one side, a small fountain trickled water into a basin, where fresh rose petals floated, adjacent to a nearby selection of oils: patchouli, lavender, rosemary, their scents mingled in the heady, warm atmosphere. A strigil and pumice stone awaited on a shelf built into the wall, along with fine linen towels, and cloths, all carefully placed for your use.
With a soft sigh, you dipped your toes into the inviting water, allowing the robe you had worn in to drop to the marbled floor behind you. You relished the sensation as you waded in deeper, the water rising to your ankles, then your calves. Each step felt like a release, the warmth washing over you, dissolving the tension that had clung to you throughout the day.
As you reached the center of the pool, the water enveloped you completely. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back as you floated for a moment, allowing the water to cradle you. Everything felt so distant, so unimportant. The world outside faded away, and for a fleeting moment, it was just you and the serenity of the private sanctuary. You let your mind wander, thoughts drifting like the petals floating in the nearby basin.
Reaching for the bottle of patchouli oil resting on the edge of the bath, you poured a small amount into your palm, the rich, earthy scent wafting into the space. With your fingers slicked with the oil, you began to comb it carefully through your hair, taking your time to work out any knots and tame the unruly strands. Once satisfied with your hair, you took a fine cloth, its texture soft as silk against your skin, and began to bathe yourself with the perfumed oil.
With deliberate movements, you sloshed water along your body, enjoying the feeling of it cascading over your skin like a gentle waterfall. When you were ready, you dove under the water once more, the coolness contrasting deliciously with the warmth of the oil. As you rinsed yourself, you felt the excess oils wash away, the strigil waiting nearby for the final touch.
“Domina.” The tranquil moment shattered as one of your newly assigned servants peeked through the ornate doorway, her voice breaking the soothing silence.
“What is it?” you asked, trying to stall for just a moment longer.
“You’ve been summoned.”
Of course you had. It only made sense that your peaceful escape would be interrupted. You emerged from the water, droplets glistening on your skin, and caught the nervous gaze of the servant as she shifted from foot to foot.
“Come inside,” you beckoned her, and she hesitantly approached, holding out a towel like it was a fragile offering.
“Do you know how to use a strigil?” you asked, and she nodded, though her eyes betrayed her anxiety.
“Very well.” You dried your face with the towel, then reached for the strigil and handed it to her. “Quickly.”
With shaky hands, she began to scrape off the excess oils.
“What is your name?” you asked, trying to ease the tension as she glided the strigil along your shoulder.
“Cassia,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Cassia,” you repeated, letting the name linger in the air. “Is it Caracalla or Geta requesting me?”
“Neither, Domina,” she paused, placing the strigil back in its assigned place. “It is the Imperator.”
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You quickly slipped into a sleeping gown—something informal yet appropriate for the presence of the Imperator. Cassia’s hands trembled slightly as she helped you into the nightgown made of fine, onyx silk. She draped a matching robe over your shoulders, guiding your arms into the sleeves with a gentleness that put you at ease. The fabric glided down your arms, flowing behind you like a shadow as you moved to comb your damp hair away from your face.
“I believe it would be nice if you left your hair down to dry,” Cassia suggested meekly, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the looking glass.
“I can braid it when you return. It is not wise to make the Imperator wait.” Her eyes told a story, hinting at the consequences of such delays, as if she had witnessed them firsthand.
“Very well,” you agreed, sensing the urgency in her tone. “Lead me there.”
Cassia walked quickly ahead, navigating through the maze of twists and turns that made up the opulent palace. The gilded walls shimmered under the flickering sconces, casting warm glows on the marble flooring. You passed by frescoes depicting grand tales of valor and myth, the ornate pieces of art adorning each wall, their beauty almost distracting you from the nervous feeling that swirled in your gut.
Finally, you arrived at an imposing set of doors, intricately carved and adorned with symbols befitting the Imperator’s status. Cassia hesitated for a moment, glancing back at you with a mix of awe and fear. “I’ll wait here, Domina.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you stepped forward. The doors swung open, revealing the dimly lit chamber beyond.
“Prima,” Septimius spoke from across the room, his voice smooth yet commanding. You crossed the threshold, your heart quickening as you made your way toward him. He sat at a side table, a decanter of wine glistening under the moonlight that spilled through the billowing curtains beside the table, casting soft shadows along the table and its contents.
“Thank you for joining me,” he said, standing to pull out a chair for you. You took your seat, the silk of your robe whispering against the chair as you settled in.
“Of course, Imperator,” you replied, keeping your tone steady. You studied his face, searching for clues about his intentions. Septimius possessed an air of authority, his graying hair slightly tousled, and his sharp features illuminated by the silvery light.
He poured a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling as he filled it, and then slid it across the table toward you. “A toast, Prima. To new beginnings.”
You accepted the glass, “To new beginnings,” you echoed, raising the glass slightly before taking a sip. As you caught his gaze, a flicker of something unreadable passed in his eyes.
“Tell me,” he began, leaning forward slightly, “how do you find your new role here? The palace can be overwhelming, even for those accustomed to such grandeur.”
You considered his question carefully, weighing your words. “It is… a lot to take in,” you admitted.
“As to be expected,” he assured you, his gaze unwavering. “How are things with your new husband?”
“May I be bold, Imperator?” you asked, setting your glass down with a gentle clink, smoothing the fabric of your robe against your thighs to calm the tension that had begun to build within you.
“Go ahead,” he nodded, his expression encouraging.
You took a moment, drawing in a steadying breath. “I believe I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know how things have been going.” You reached for the glass of wine again, taking a sip to wet your drying, anxious mouth.
Septimius leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his features. You spotted Geta right away in him, the way his eyes were shaped and how he looked at you like you were the most confusing thing in the world that he sought to understand. But Caracalla was there too—his fingers digging into the armrest, his middle and pointer fingers tapping an offbeat rhythm against the leather. Caracalla's fierce gaze matched Septimius’s as well as his wild curls, both full of intensity.
“True enough. The palace is a place of whispers, and my son’s reputation precedes him. Yet I am interested in your perspective—how you truly feel about your situation.”
“May I ask what brought you back early from your trip to Baiae?” you asked, genuinely curious about the reason for his fast return.
“Word travels fast,” he leaned in, lowering his voice. “I—” he paused, selecting his words with care, “am aware of what transpired earlier today.”
You nodded, a wave of shame washing over you as you pictured someone recounting the scene to the Imperator.
“I also know that you and Caracalla have not shared a bed since your wedding night.”
“I…” you sighed, “truly am doing my best. It’s just that he and I are two very different people, and I’m trying to navigate the ocean of differences between us.” You explained, your tone almost pleading.
Carefully, he slid a familiar piece of parchment your way. No need to touch it; you knew well what it said.
“How did you come by that?” you asked, brow furrowed.
“Never mind that,” he waved a hand dismissively. “Do the words in this letter truly speak to your feelings?”
With a weary sigh, you opened it, your fingers dancing along its edges.
“If you wished me dead, you could’ve driven the blade yourself.” The words were yours, penned to your father a few days prior, when you felt as if being married to Caracalla was a death sentence, when tensions were at a high and you needed someone to hear you.
“It was confiscated before it left the palace,” he replied, his gaze steady as it met yours over the parchment.
“May I ask who thought it wise to spy on me and read my letters?” You laid the parchment flat, smoothing out the creases.
“You may not.” His expression was as stoic as a statue.
“I feel as if I’m being set up to fail, Imperator, as if your son wishes to see this marriage crumble, and I’ll be cast aside when I inevitably fail in my duties.” You spoke the truth plainly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
“When he was, I don’t know,” he sighed, “seven or eight, we campaigned through Syria and up into the Taurus mountains.”
You leaned in, sitting up straighter, eager for him to continue.
“And I remember him shouting, ‘I’ve found another three!’ I turned around, and there he was, standing among a sea of headless corpses, yelling when he found one with its head still on. He took such joy in it; it became a sort of game for him.”
“Isn’t that what a man wants? A son who isn’t squeamish about death and war?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“Of course, but not one who brings that chaos within his own walls, in his own home.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh.
“And Geta,” he closed his eyes, “maybe I wasn’t hard enough on him. Maybe I learned my lesson with Caracalla. Maybe Geta is just his mother’s son.” He waved a hand dismissively, letting out a heavy sigh. “But none of this is your worry.”
He stood, and you followed, walking with him to the grand doors.
“Go and rest. After tonight, all will be well.”
You turned to question him, to ask what the gods had happened between the two of you and why it had become your concern even if he had assured you it wasn’t, but the doors swung shut before you could speak. You exchanged a bewildered glance with Cassia before heading back to your chambers.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Not long after, the harsh sound of screaming pulled you from your thoughts. You followed the noise, retracing Cassia’s steps from earlier in the night, until you stumbled into Geta’s chest as he stood by the entrance to his father’s chambers.
“What are you doing here?” he spat. You peered around him, drawn to the chaos behind the door.
“I heard the shouting and got worried,” you replied. “What’s happening?”
“None of your business.” He looked down at you, his expression cold.
“Back to your rooms,” he ordered, waving you away.
“You will take your wife back into your quarters immediately!” came the booming voice of Septimius. A loud crash echoed, and you and Geta exchanged alarmed glances.
“Perhaps you should show me some respect for the title you’ve given me,” Caracalla shouted back.
“Perhaps you should earn that title, boy,” Septimius seethed.
Another crash followed, accompanied by the sound of shuffling.
“You are only Augustus and emperor of Rome by my say, Marcus! I am your father and your emperor,” Septimius continued, his voice cutting through the chaos. “I will strip you of every title and give it to your brother, who might actually appreciate it!”
Geta’s ears perked up, and a flicker of hope crossed his face as he looked toward the door.
But Septimius’s next words dashed his hopes. “Perhaps I’ll take your wife into my quarters and father a son with her. A new line of succession could be just what Rome needs.”
Another crash echoed, and grunts erupted from behind the doors.
“Look at you, bleeding like a woman,” Septimius mocked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you bled between your legs like one.”
The grand doors swung open, and Caracalla stormed toward you, his face smeared with blood. When he spat a crimson splash at your feet, you instinctively jumped back. He rushed past you, exchanging a quick glance with Geta.
“Do not follow him,” Geta warned, his voice low and tense.
But you didn’t heed his warning.
You navigated through winding hallways, twisting and turning until you reached Caracalla's chamber. He had thrown the doors open, pacing like a caged beast, blood streaming down his face.
“Get the hell out!” he bellowed, sending everything from the side table crashing to the floor.
“I refuse,” you shot back, firmly closing the door behind you.
“You went and lied to my father,” he hissed, stalking toward you like a predator. “You treacherous snake!”
“I did nothing of the sort!” you yelled back, your voice rising with anger. “He knew before he called for me.”
As he approached, the full extent of his injuries became clear. His nose was smashed, blood pouring from it, and his lip was split wide open. You roamed about his room scouring for supplies to clean him with until you found a few plain cloths on his dressing table.
“Sit.” You were shocked when he followed the command, sitting on the side of the bed, brow pinched at the way you had spoken to him.
“We must work together until I’m with child,” you said, as he winced a bit when you pressed a clean cloth against his split lip. “Then, once a son is born, you can send me off to whatever warm rock you fancy.”
“But first,” you said as you settled beside him on the bed, “we need to stop this bleeding.”
He placed his hand over yours, pressing down harder against his lip, a silent agreement forged in a simple touch.
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raya-hunter01 · 7 months ago
Text
Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 5
Roman X OC(Kara)
Jey Uso X OC (Tia)
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy
Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.
What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?
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A Month Later
Roman’s House
“Mama, you saw it for yourself, she slept with Jey,” I said trying to escape her wrath.
“Son, your actions caused that chain reaction, and Tia living here isn’t helping your case to get your wife back either,” my mom said washing the dishes as I fed Logan her bottle.
“Mama, Logan needs her.”
“Logan needs her like I need an enema. She doesn’t even want that baby; she barely interacts with her. How could you let this happen?” she asked as I wished the earth to open up and swallow me whole.
“Mama, I stopped it, I knew I was wrong.”
“But, it took six times sleepin’ with this girl for you to realize that, and then you lied to me. Roman, I didn’t raise you this way,” my mother scolded as I sighed taking my tongue lashing from her.
“Mama, I was gon’ tell you, I just didn’t know how,” I said as she sat down beside me.
“You start by telling the truth….I said some mean things to Kara going off how you were acting. Like when was you going to tell me that you had a child with Kara’s sister.”
“I…I was going to fix it all. I wanted her to be Logan’s stepmom.. I was going to make it right, then I saw red. She let him have her mama, my wife did that,” I said still in shock that Kara took it that far and slept with Jey.
“Roman, you can’t take a child away from her mother and give it to another woman, thinking it will fix the issue. Kara is hurt…Her husband and sister betrayed her, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”
“But look at what she did, like really out of all people it just had to be him. Why would she do that?” I asked, truly wanting to know why.
“To make sure she hurt you deeper than you hurt her, and it worked. Tore you up so bad you ordered a new bus. Got you walkin’ round here like you on life support,” my mom said, my jaw twitched just thinking about them together.
“Then you got that girl sleepin’ here, trying to get her hooks in you.”
“Mama, I ain’t-”
“I don’t care, if you want to try to work on your marriage, Tia gotta go. Her being here is showing Kara you didn’t take your marriage seriously and its disrespectful.”
“Mama, she has nobody-”
“That’s a lie, she got a mama, and a daddy. Tia’s mother was going stay with her for a month to help out with the baby. Rebecca told me, but Tia turned her down. I’m telling you Roman, get her outta here before something bad happens, son”.
“Mama, I tried to talk to Kara, but she’s been ignoring me. She just sits in mediation staring a hole through me,”  I said trying to get her to understand.
“Try harder, tell her what happened so there is no more secrets and hopefully ya’ll can get back on track. Whatever the outcome you owe her, and you know you do.”
“Mama, her sleepin’ wit Jey hurt me bad.” I said pleading my case as she threw her hands up in the air as I frowned at her. Kinda pissed she ain’t more on my side…I am her son.
“Roman, you’re not thinking about what you’ve done to Kara. I swear you are just like your daddy, can dish it out but can’t take it. Go to mediation today and be truthful with her,” she said leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Over the last month Tia being here has been hell. She won’t help with Logan, it’s almost like it’s no bond between them and that is insane to me.
 It’s been all me and mama, so I know I’m in this alone.
Hearing her come downstairs I rolled my eyes. “Morning my logan,” she said kissing logan on the forehead as Logan begins to fuss.
“Roman, I’m glad you’re still here. I thought you had left for the show, she said extra giddy. She really was trying to push something that was never going to be. My mom was right, she needed to go.
“Uh, no I got to go sign for the new bus and I got mediation today,” I said as Tia shot me a look.
“Oh, you’re still trying to beat that dead horse,” she said smartly rolling her eyes as I stood up walking towards her. “Um, what are you doing Roman?” Tia asked worriedly as I placed Logan in her arms. “Letting you bond with your daughter, because she has two parents and not just one,” I said leaving a fussing Logan with her.
“Roman, take her to your mom!” Tia cried as I kept walking, ignoring her.... I had bigger fish to fry.
“Make sure you’re gone by 1:00, my mama is taking Logan to your parents and you to get groceries for your house. I need you gone; Kara is stopping by to get some of her things!” I yelled as I heard her mutter under her breath.
Going upstairs I ran into mom. “Why didn’t you bring the baby to me? I ain’t gon’ listen to Logan cry all day because you left her with the devil,” she said as I snickered.
“Mama, she’s gotta try to bond with her,” I said giving her a hug before I went to get dressed.
----------
Bently Law and Associates
Kara’s POV
“I know you, nor her better be there when I get there,” I whispered as Roman nodded.
“My mom is dropping Logan off at your parents. Ma, can vouch for me,” he said pointing at my mother as she nodded.
“Yeah, Roman called last night and asked us to keep Logan," my mom said as I sighed, not really caring.
“Then my mom is going to take Tia grocery shopping for some things for her house because she’s about to be going home. After this, I gotta go finalize the deal on my new bus.”
“I don’t care where Tia goes, as long as she ain’t there when I’m there,” I said irritated.
 All he had to say was she wasn’t going to be there; I didn’t need an update on his baby mama drama.
 “Nobody will be there sweetheart, I promise,” Roman said as I cringed at his use of his pet name for me.
“Please…Don’t do that,” I said as he threw his hands up and sat back in his seat.
Sitting there in silence, my brain finally caught up to the little information he revealed. He got a new bus…. Smirking I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he couldn’t shake the image of Jey and I on the other bus.
You could feel the tension as we went to sat with our lawyers. Ten years of marriage, was coming down to being in this office on the 15th floor, sitting around this huge table negotiating assets.
Deven, a mutual friend of ours, who’s also a judge, sat at the end of the table serving as a mediator for us.
“Alright, let’s get started. I wished we were here under different circumstances, but I digress. Mr. Towns what is your client Mrs. Reigns asking for?” Deven asked as I leaned back in my chair trying to relax.
“My client doesn’t want any of her husband’s assets, she only wants a clean break,” my lawyer said as I saw Roman twitching his seat.
“Kara is you crazy? After all he’s done..The devil is a damn lie, she want it all!” my mom said as I tuned her out.
I was too focused on Roman, who had leaned over and was whispering something in his lawyer’s ear.
“Well, my client would like to try therapy before we go this route. It will look good to a judge that you guys tried and could push this along quicker in the end.”
“I want this over,” I said as Roman cleared his throat.
“I want to try to save our marriage,” Roman said as I shook my head.
“I would rather swallow nails and dance barefoot across hot coals,” I said as my mother slapped me on the arm.
“Girl, hush this about getting what you deserve. He owes this to you,” She hissed as I sighed, sitting back and allowing Roman’s lawyer to continue.
“My client wants to also pay for his wife’s medical school expenses.”
“What!” I exclaimed sitting up in my seat looking at my mom who shushed me. “Here him out baby,” she whispered as I took a deep breath.
Bitch, now you want me to go back to medical school, now you want to support my dreams.
 “Like I was saying, we’ve come up with a total of 500,000 that she needs to complete her last two years of education.”
“That’s way too much?” I interrupted as his lawyer looked down at his sheet of paper reading his notes as Roman cracked a small smile.
“Always worried about me spending too much money instead of just letting me take care of you,” he muttered as I shot him a look.
“Kara, look at me.” Deven said as I turned, giving him my full attention feeling Roman’s eyes still on me.
“I talked to Roman and the price he came up with will help you with things you need such as your books, a Condo to stay in, and any necessities you may need.”
“Deven, it’s too much,” I whispered, totally thrown for a loop everything.
“Roman wants you to focus on school and not have to worry about taking up a job. He knew you were going to come in here and wouldn’t want anything from him, but he knows you deserve everything.” Deven said as fought back tears.
“Let him at least do that much, and hear him out,” Deven pleaded as I turned back to Roman and his lawyer, wanting to hear the rest of his offer as Roman sighed in relief before turning to his lawyer.
“Let her know what else we talked about Ryan?” Roman whispered pointing to his notepad as his lawyer looked over, shocked at whatever Roman had written on his paper.
“Are you sure Mr. Reigns? I said we could renegotiate that and bring it to the table later,” His lawyer whispered as Roman shook his head.
“She deserves it and I want her to have it regardless of if we work this out or not,” he whispered as I frowned at him.
“Uh, my client would also like to add an additional three million per year for Mrs. Reigns to do with as she pleases and upon graduation Mr. Reigns will donate ten million towards his wife’s own practice,” his lawyer said as I tried to process what he was offering…
“Jesus, Roman,” my mother said as Roman’s eyes never left mine.
Why was he doing this? Why now?
“My client has also cleared the balance owed from when his wife left school and violated the terms of her scholarship. All her debts are clear, so she can re-apply for school anytime she likes.”
“Why are you doing this? Like why now?” I whispered as Roman leaned his elbows on the table.
“Because I love you, and I miss my wife. I’m trying to make it right, Kara,” Roman said as I felt the room closing in on me.
“Now you want to support my dreams…. Now you want to do right! Now you want to make it right!” I shouted, the look of remorse on his face making it hard for me to breathe.
“I think emotions are high and we should take a break and resume next week. That will give Kara some time to think about things,” Deven said as my mother rolled her eyes.
“Ain’t shit to think about….She gon’ take everything he offering…He owes her that much, all she sacrifices she made for him,” my mom said as I wiped my tears.
“Kara, please take it…Even if you don’t take me back. I want you to have this regardless.” Roman pleaded.
“I need some air,” I whispered storming out of the room.
“Kara! Come back!” I heard him yell hot on my heels.
Picking up pace, I slip inside the elevator, pushing the buttons fast as I could as Roman sprinted towards me, sliding in the elevator  just before the doors closed.
“Kara-”
“Why are you doing this? You can't buy me, I'm not for sale."
“Baby, just listen,” he pleaded pulling me in his arms, cradling the back of my neck, holding me close as I finally exploded.
“NO! NO! Let me go!” I screamed, managing to turn my body away from him, but I couldn't escape his powerful embrace.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” Roman pleaded refusing to let me go, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my chest.
 His grip never loosened as he lowered us to the floor determined to not let me go as I fought against him.
“Damn you!...... You broke us! You broke ME!..... I LET YOU BREAK ME!!” I cried as he held me tighter.
“Baby, please forgive me,” he whispered, his silent tears falling on my cheek as he buried his head against mine.
He had officially broken me…And now that he had me broken, he wanted to give me all I ever had asked for from him.
“Roman, just let me go,” I whimpered as he released me, allowing me to slide to the opposite side of the elevator, creating some much-needed distance.
“I’m sorry, I just love so much,” he whispered as the elevator jolted to a stop as I looked around in confusion as the lights flickered, then dimed……
No…Not now…We can’t be stuck in here.
“This isn’t happening,” I muttered as Roman rushed to pick up the emergency phone.
“Hello! Hello……Yes, my wife and I are stuck?” he said as I tried to regulate my breathing.
“An hour!” He said I hit the wall in frustration. This day just keeps on getting worse.
An hour in here….. With Roman..Shoot me now.
“Thank you, thirty minutes sounds better than an hour,” he said hanging up and sitting down under the phone as I took off my jacket trying to get comfortable.
“Kara, I-”
“Please don’t talk to me, you’re taking up all the air,” I said checking my phone frowning at the fact I had no service.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I swear I was going to tell you that night. If you could Just let me explain,” he said as I looked at him.
“Ok, I’ll play along, since you seem like you wanna confess your sins. How did it start?” I asked putting my phone in my pocket, giving him my undivided attention.
Roman seemed shocked at my question, this was not how he wanted the conversation to go.
Roman’s POV
Damn, she didn’t waste any time asking. I knew I had to tell her all of it but I dreaded it.…
“Well, I’m waiting, you wanted to explain,” Kara said as I sighed.
“The first time was on the bus. She had asked for a ride saying her friends had left her. Later that night after you and I talked on the phone, I went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and there she was layin’ in bed with me….Naked.”
“Then what?” Kara whispered as I contemplated my next words, but I knew I had to tell the truth.
 “She climbed on top of me, I asked her to leave but it was almost eerie how she looked like you in the moonlight, so I didn’t stop it,” I said as Kara covered her face with her hands, her leg anxiously tapping against the floor.
I hated to tell her, but I knew I had to tell her all of it.
“When we were having sex, I slipped up and called her your name,” I said as Kara’s head jerked in my direction looking at me in disgust and horror, but she didn’t say anything.
“She told me she didn’t mind pretending to be you for me and I called her by your name as we had sex. Like four out of the six times we slept together I did, the other times, no words were exchanged,” I said feeling the bile rise in my throat, for the first time truly realized how sick it all was.
Kara looked at me with a sad smile. “Tia always has to prove a point that she can take away the things that I love, and I guess you were no exception…..God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Kara whispered, as I dropped my head in shame.
“Kara, If I could take it back I would but I can’t. Just please say we can try-”
“Well as a last-minute replacement for me how did she do?” Kara asked interrupting me, as I groaned.
“Don’t do that, you know nobody can ever compare to you,” I said as Kara chuckled, shaking her head.
“Did you even try to use protection?” she whispered as I felt somewhat offended, she would think I would put her life in danger.
The first time we didn’t but every time after that we did. I got tested before me and you even slept together again. I was clean, and I swear it was only that one time unprotected.”
“That’s all it takes is one time Roman, and now you have a child with her.  You still never answered my question…. How was she?” Kara whispered as I felt like I wanted to vomit.
“Kara don’t do this?”
 “No, you already did this when you slept with her and KEPT sleeping with her. So how was she?”
“Like I said, she wasn’t you and since we are on that subject, I guess I could ask you the same about Jey,” I said as the elevator started back up with a soft hum but was moving slowly.
Standing up Kara grabbed her jacket ignoring me, but I blocked her path standing in front of the doors. She wasn’t leaving here until she told me why she picked Jey.
“Move Roman.. I ain't got time for this," Kara whispered trying to avoid looking at me.
“Why Jey, Kara? It could have been anybody, but you chose him. You let him have you, why Kara,” I said unafraid and not ashamed of the tremble in my voice.
I was hurt that she let him have her, that’s all I see every time I pull into our fucking driveway.
“Just tell me,” I whispered making her look at me, her once loving eyes now void of feeling towards me.
I really did break her…I caused this change in her.
Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I remembered something she told me once when we were dating.
"Can you please move?"
“I have to love and trust someone to share my body with them, I don’t just jump into bed with anybody.” I whispered as she seemed shocked that I remembered but recovered quickly continuing to stare a hole through me.
“I guess there’s your answer as to why I chose, him,” she whispered as we stood in silence waiting for the elevator doors to open.
This couldn’t be it….It just couldn’t….We can come back from this…Jey is a non-issue, I’m her husband…
-----
Gulf Shore, AL
Jey’s POV
“Man, gon’ call Kara, and tell her you missed her and want her to come over,” Trin said as I shot her a look.
“I ain’t trying to smother her, I know she has mediation this morning. It takes a lot out of her,” I said as Trin smiled at me.
“That’s an even better reason to call her and let her know you’re thinking about her, Jimmy said as I  found myself blushin’.
I really had been thinking about Kara nonstop since we left a few weeks ago. The facetime calls and texting was and all cool but I wanted to hold her in my arms.
“You never told us what happened when ya’ll went to Roman’s that night either,” Trin said as I put my glasses on acting like I didn’t hear her.
“Oh, it’s like that huh…Fine, I’ll get the info from Kara,” she said as I chuckled.
“I think they fucked,” Jimmy said as I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t talk about Kara like that,” I said as he gave Trin a knowing look as she smiled.
“Yep…They had sex, and it was good too. She got ya brother even more sprung than before,” Trin said as I pulled out my phone to call Kara, not even bothering to argue because it was true.
I was sprung and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it…
------
Roman’s House
Kara’s POV
I finally calmed down enough to make my way out to the house, and it seems like Roman kept his word...Nobody was here.
 As I got out the car my phone rang, smiling I accepted Jey’s facetime request.
“Where you been all my life,” Jey said as soon as I answered making me blush as I heard Trin and Jimmy awing in the background.
“Well, I always been here, and I’m currently at the house of horrors.” I said as Jey frowned.
“Your where?” Jey asked as I sighed. “I’m at the house picking up the last of my thing I wanted to get and granny’s bracelet.”
“Is he there?” Jey asked as I chuckled. “No, he’s not, he had some business to take care of. We did mediation this morning and it was a mess, but I’ll tell you about it later,” I said as Jey studied my face.
“I don’t like that look, it means when you tell me I’mma wanna beat his ass again,” Jey said as I gave him a small smile.
“What time ya’ll gettin' in today?" I asked as he smiled.
“We should be back in town in about an hour, we makin’ good time, tell the fam, hey,” Jey said turning the camera around to Jimmy and Trin as they laughed.
“Hey fam!” I said happy to see their faces, I really missed them all.
“Hey, Booky! I’mma need you to put this man outta his misery when this is all over with Roman and your ass crazy sister. He’s crazy about you,” Trin said as I blushed.
“Man, stop tellin’ all my business, Kara already knows what time it is,” Jey said as I laughed.
 “I miss you guys and I can’t wait to see ya’ll.”
“You be careful, get what you need, and get out. Dinner on us tonight,” Jimmy said as I smiled.
“I got ya’ll it’s gon’ take ten minutes tops. If I haven’t called, ya’ll back, call me,” I said putting their minds at ease.
“A’ight ten minutes,” Jey said as I smiled hanging up putting my phone in my back pocket.
After that night we never spoke about what happened. Jey was a man of his word; we carried on like our usual selves and for that I was grateful.
Running upstairs, I went into the bedroom and grabbed some of the clothes I wanted to keep, putting them in the box Roman had left on the bed for me.
I felt my anger slowly building as I looked around the room.. Had Tia been in here? Had she slept in our bed?  Roman’s confession on how things went down with Tia really had thrown me for a loop.
“Why couldn’t you say, no?” I muttered as I heard footsteps coming upstairs.
Ugh…
“Roman you said you wouldn’t be here,” I said agitated, opening the door and taking a step back in shock seeing Tia standing there in the sundress I wore the day Roman proposed to me.
“Oh, I didn’t know you would be here Kara. I was just trying to put together a little surprise for-” she started but stopped talking, seeing the look on my face…She realized she had taken it too far.
“You got on my dress!” I hissed as she tried to run but I caught her arm, slanging her in the room, and throwing her up against the wall before climbing on top of her.
“You bitch” I yelled punching her in the face as she screamed in pain.
“Get off! Kara!” Tia screamed as I repeatedly banged her head against the floor.
“I’mma kill you.”
“You ok up there Kara?!” I heard Janice yell as I kicked Tia in the stomach, before running to lock the door.
Nobody was breakin’ this up..She had it coming.
“Everybody always tryin’ to save you….You never face the consequences of your actions,” I hissed as she stumbled to her feet.
Before she could even see it coming, I ran at her, grabbing her by the and hair slamming her face against the wall.
“Kara calm down!" She cried as I backhanded her as she fell against me.
“Calm down my ass, I’m sicka you! Get off me bitch! I screamed, throwing her into the dresser as she tumbled across it hitting the floor hard. Her moans of pain bringing me satisfaction.
“What is going on in there, Kara?!” Janice yelled as I trembled with anger as Tia spit blood outta her mouth, crawling toward the wall trying to pull herself up.
“ Janice, I’mma kill her, that’s what’s going on!” I screamed charging towards Tia, spearing her against the wall as we fell to the floor in a heap.
My phone sliding across the floor in the process
“It ain’t worth it Kara, come on out baby,” Janice pleaded as I fought to catch my breath but I couldn’t reign in my anger. She has taken everything from me.
“I won,” Tia gasped with a smile as I snapped pulling her up by her neck dragging her to the wall mirror in the corner.
“Look! Look at us! Bitch, what have you won! The only reason you even had him in the first place is because you look somewhat look little like me the dark hoe,” I hissed as she tried to pry my hands out of her hair.
“Ain’t nobody tryin to be you! He wanted me because he knows I’m better than you!” Tia screaming as I chuckled letting her go.
“But ain’t you tryin’ to be me, Tia?…..Let’s see….You wearin’ my clothes!...You were fucking my husband and had a baby from him but you ain’t trying to be me.. Bitch, please, just own dat shit,” I scoffed.
“He wanted me Kara…He couldn’t resist me,” Tia smiled as I shook my head. This bitch was loony tunes.
“Oh! He wanted you, huh…Wasn’t he fucking you and calling you by my NAME!  Something you didn’t mind him doing by the way, right? As long as you fucked up my life!” I yelled as she jumped back in shock at my knowledge of what happened during her intimate moments with Roman.
“H- H- He told you?” she stammered as I smirked at her uneasiness.
“Yea, he told me all of it, and who does some sick shit like that? I asked. The tension building as we stared a hole through each other.
“Oh…nothing to say now.. Well, I’ll tell you who does that…A desperate bitch who loves to throw her rank ass pussy at anything that moves!”  I screamed as she tried to swing but missed, the momentum causing us to fall against the mirror, causing it to shatter around us.  
Luckily neither one of us landed on the glass but hit the ground hard.
“Damn it,” I muttered rubbing my head as I heard my phone ringing looking around in a panic, I groaned in frustration as it stopped.
I knew it was Jey calling to check on me.
“Miss an important call,” Tia teased trying to sit up as my phone started ringing again.
“J- Jey,” I whispered trying to crawl to my phone as I felt a Tia jump on my back as we tussled to get to my phone.
“What you mean don’t call the cops! You better get her quick then Roman; they are killing each other in there!” Janice said as she continued to bang on the door.
“Just as I reached the phone, Tia bit my hand and elbowed me in the stomach before grabbing and answering it.
“Jey! Jey, she’s gone crazy! Help me!” Tia cried as I pulled her back down to the ground hitting her with a right hook before slamming her head against the floor again.
“Tia! Where is Kara!” I heard Jey yell as I ripped my phone out of her hands.
“Kara! Kara! What’s gon’ on!” I heard Jey yelling in a panic as I put the phone to my ear.
“Jey….I’mma call you back…I got some shit to handle.” I panted
“Ka-” Jey started but I ended the call before he could finish, seeing Tia trying to run for the door.
“Where you goin’?” I asked, charging toward the door pushing her against it.
“Help! Somebody Help me! Your crazy!” Tia yelled as I turned her around to face me.
“What did you expect after all you’ve done! You’ve made me this way!”
I screamed punching her in the face as she fell in a heap at my feet, leaning down I jacked her up by the hair, tossing her again into the wall
“Bitch you ain’t nobody!” I Screamed gripping her hair as she tried to back away, I began punching her,  on top of her head, only stopping to change course landing a few punches to her face as she screamed trying to cover her face with her hands.
 I got a couple more shots before I felt myself being lifted up in the air. “Let me go! let me go!” I screamed, fighting against whoever had pulled me away.
“Kara, that’s enough baby,” Roman’s voice boomed throughout the room as I stilled in his arms, panting in disbelief at how out of control I was.
“Roman,” I whispered somewhat coming out of my tunnel vision.
“Yes…..It’s me baby, I got you,” he whispered holding me tight as I tried to gather myself as Tia got up of the floor wiping her nose.
“You’re really comforting her! She’s crazy and just attacked the mother of your child for no reason Roman,” Tia moaned, as I winced feeling the pain shoot through my knuckles as I looked down seeing the scrapes and patches of raw skin.
“Nah, I ain’t crazy..You just kept pushin’ your luck, like you always do and nobody was here to save yo’ ass…Let me go Roman!” I hissed as Roman released me, finally taking in Tia’s appearance.
“Why you got on Kara’s engagement dress?” Roman asked, his powerful voice overtaking the room as Tia said nothing.
She was too busy trying to check her face in the only mirror left standing in the room, on top of the dresser.
“Don’t worry, It’s an improvement bitch!” I screamed as Roman sighed gently pulling me to him, trying to check me over.
“Stop, I’m fine,” I said stepping away from him. “You got some cuts, Kara” he said worriedly as I shrugged him off again.
“I said I’m good, but you betta get that bitch outta here before I kill her,” I said pointing at Tia as she smirked, Janice shaking her head in the corner at the scene playing out before her.
“I won…I …ruined…Your …Life and I loved every minute of it…I hate you,” she seethed as I chuckled.
“You hate me….. You hate me!  Bitch, I’ve hated yo’ ass since the womb!” I yelled, knowing it would cut her deep because she would always tell me how she would rub Mama’s stomach and talk to me when Mama was pregnant with me.
“You wanna know why I’ve always made a point to fuck up your life?” She asked I tried to get around Roman.
“Because I wished you had never been born!” She screamed. "Move Roman!" I yelled as he refused, turning to look at Tia
“Shut up, Tia!” Roman shouted as she kept talking.
“It’s true, and she should know.”
“Well, Mama shoulda’ just swallowed when it came to you. Your whole fuckin’ existence has just been you being a living, breathing, pile of disappointment and cum! You gutta slut, I hate you!” I screamed as she seemed hurt by my words.
“Timeout!..... Roman take Kara downstairs for her to calm down…They hittin' below the belt now, ya’ll still sisters,” Janice said as I shrugged Roman off.
“I can go on my own accord. I don’t need him,” I said walking out of the room as Roman’s mom followed me.
“I’ll help you get cleaned up,” she said as I looked at her unsure of what her motive was. I was still pissed by her lil outburst and shots she was throwing a couple of weeks ago.
She betta not start talkin’ out her neck or she can get this work too. I’m tired of the bullshit…And everybody…
Roman’s POV
“I told you not to be here!” I yelled as Tia continued to clean herself up.
“She has to get used to seeing us a family, Roman.”
“Uh, no she doesn’t because that isn’t going to happen. We share Logan together and that’s all. I can’t believe you really came back here after I asked you not too…Just trying to hurt Kara,” I said as she rolled her eyes.
“That wasn’t my in-”
“Tia! You up here wearin’ the dress Kara wore when I proposed to her!…You knew what would happen when she saw you in it."
“She always takes shit so personal,” she said wincing as she touched her jaw.
“It is personal, and you had no right! Look, just get outta my house.” I said just over the day. I feel like the more I try the worse everything gets.
“How am I going to get home?” Tia cried as I walked around for the first time looking at the disaster area, that was once my bedroom with Kara.
“The same way you snuck back here after my mom dropped you off at your house…Hell, walk for all I care and leave Logan at your moms, I’ll pick her up later,” I said leaving no room for argument.
“You can’t just dismiss me like I’m nothing Roman,” she whispered as I turned to look at her.
“My lawyers will be in touch, now get out.”  I said as she sighed limping out of the room.
“This is a fuckin’ mess.”
------
Jey’s POV
“Man, where we at? This ain’t the way!” I yelled as Jimmy sped up.
“We almost there, I took a shortcut,” he said as Trin tried to call Kara back.
“Come on Kara, pick up the phone,” Trin pleaded as I felt myself losing it.
“I just need to get there man,” I sighed as Trin rubbed my shoulder. “Kara can take care of herself,” she said as I sighed.
 “I know that…I just know Kara, she gon’ hurt dat girl.” I said honestly scared about what we were about to walk into.
“Tia been pushin’ and she finally got what she asked for. It’s been coming, and it was no way to avoid it,” Trin said as I took a deep breath.
I was so on edge as we hit the exit to Roman’s house, I probably could have run faster than Jimmy was driving.
Pulling up, we didn’t see the cops or anything but saw Tia coming out with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.
She avoided our gaze and starting to walk up the road with a slight limp.
“Damn she limpin’ and did you see her face…Man, Kara ate her ass up,” Jimmy said as Trin snickered. “Told you Kara could handle it,” she whispered as I slammed the car door, rushing inside.
As soon as I got to the foyer, I heard Kara’s voice coming from the kitchen.
“Aye, gon’ in there, we’ll look around,” Jimmy said as I went towards the kitchen.
“Roman did tell her not to be here sweetie. I dropped her off and everything,” my aunt said as I hung back giving them space to talk.
 I was just thankful Kara was ok, and I could lay eyes on her.
I watched my aunt clean up Kara’s knuckles as she hissed at the pain. She had a small cut on her lip and a couple scratches on her arms.
“Tell me how you feeling sweetie?  You can’t keep holding this in.” My aunt said as a strangled sob escaped Kara’s lips.
“Do you know how long we tried to have a baby, and that WHORE just gave him our dream without even trying.” Kara cried as my aunt reached over and gave her a hug.
“I know it baby,” my aunt whispered rubbing Kara’s back.
“Wh- What am I supposed to do with that?.…This is all wrong, it’s not fair,” Kara sobbed, my heart breaking for her.
Pulling away, my aunt took Kara’s hands in hers. “I’ll tell you what you do…..Leave him, Kara……Leave this town and allow yourself to heal,” My aunt said as I looked at her in shock.  
She actually told Kara to leave Roman and start her life over.
“How do I do that?” Kara asked as my aunt smiled at her.
“Take it one day at a time,” she whispered as Kara nodded wiping her tears.
“You right, I need to leave…..Cause’ if I don’t leave, somebody gon’ get hurt,” Kara whispered, as I felt a chill run down my spine at the coldness of her voice.
“I know it, baby… I can feel it coming, and I don’t want that,” my aunt said as Kara nodded in agreement as they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until my aunt cleared her throat.
“So, do you have any places in mind?” she asked as Kara cracked a smile.
“I guess it’s time to give Boston another try,” she whispered with determination as I smiled.
I knew what that meant...She was finally going to put herself first and go back to medical school.
And she didn’t know it yet, well, maybe she did but I’m going to be with her every step of the way.
There was no way I was losing her now…
When the divorce is final and Kara’s ready….She will become Mrs. Fatu….
Why do I say that?...... Because you can’t run from destiny and Kara was my destiny.
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