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makethatelevenrings · 1 month ago

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Ubi Amor Ibi Fides (Where there's love, there's faith) // Lucius Verus x f!reader

summary: When he saw you that day, surrounded by a gaggle of children who begged you to tell them a story, he had no idea that the Fates had their own epic tale in mind of everlasting devotion. OR, contrasting vignettes of the past and the present through the eyes of Hanno and his wife.

word count: 13.2k

warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE!! 18+, war, blood, death, allusions to rape and what happens to female prisoners of war, allusion to desecration of a corpse, historical inaccuracy (if Ridley Scott can do it, so can I!), smut, Lucius being Down Bad for this wife, mythology and religion (with inaccuracies), discussion of suicide, suicide attempt, grief, throwing up, Roman culture???, period-typical misogyny but like, make it feminist

“Tell me a story.”

Exhaustion clouded his voice and you turned away from your weaving to find him leaning against the roughshod mudbrick door frame. It was days like today that you cursed his stubborn nature. While he had been willing to let you help in breaking in the ground for the coming harvest, your husband sent you inside by midday when the sun was at its highest. Now, you were rested and chilled by the wind that eased its way through the small house, and he was completely depleted.

“Come.” You beckoned him with an outstretched hand. “Rest beside me and then I will tell you.”

He didn’t argue, for once, and took your hand in his. You drew him down to sit beside you, his head settling in your lap. Your fingers curled into the soft, downy hair at his temples and he relaxed with a sigh. While you wished you could continue stroking his hair, the weaving in front of you wouldn’t be completed without two hands. As you went back to your work, you began to speak.

“There were once two lovers by the name of Pyramus and Thisbe…” He huffed out a quiet laugh. You smiled at him, delighted that it made him relax even further. Most of your stories were the ones he had told you about from his childhood and you weren’t really in the right mind to come up with a fresh story.

“The parents of our two lovers refused to let them marry, but their love reigned strong through the thin crack in the stone wall that divided their property.” As you spoke, you embellished the story with extraneous details and dramatic gasps, eliciting quiet chuckles from your husband. He looked weary these days and not just from the labor in the fields. The Romans were creeping closer, and it would only be a matter of time before they came to your city. You woke up last night to a cold bed and found him standing at the doorway, staring out towards the sea. He knew what was coming. You both did.

“The gods looked favorably upon their sacrifice and changed the tree to its dark appearance to signify the devotion between them.” You ended the tale and stopped your weaving for a moment to gently trace your fingers along the edge of his features. You loved the sharp crest of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the bright blue of his eyes. His lashes were so long that they left shadows across his cheeks when he shut his eyes.

“I understand why he did it,” he said softly.

“Hmm?” Your hand stroked over his curls once more as you thought through everything you needed to get done tomorrow. You paused, however, when you felt his face turn to see you better and his lips brushed against your palm.

“I understand why Pyramus ended his life.” His calloused palm covered your own and he turned your hand over, his fingers sliding along yours and intertwining. “One can only imagine the pain he must have felt.”

A painful squeeze built in your throat and you felt an awful burning sensation behind your eyes. He sat up and gently cupped your face in one of his large hands, drawing your gaze up to meet his.

“Hanno,” you breathed. He smiled softly and leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He was never one for words, always more inclined to act. Breaking apart, you pressed your forehead against his and breathed in the masculine scent of him tinged with soil, sweat, and something purely him.

“When death claims us, we go as one,” he vowed. “I cannot exist in this world without you.”

“As the gods see fit,” you assured him. “I will follow you wherever you lead.”

You wished this was a story.

It had been an easy day in the fields. You were sprinkling seeds in the ditches that Hanno dug earlier. The chickens clucked at you from their pen, begging for a bit more food as if they hadn’t been fed a hearty amount of grain earlier. After you planted these, Hanno would place the earth back over it while you worked on your herb garden.

You were capable of doing the hard, manual labor. Growing up, you would always help your parents through the entire process of planting, but Hanno was insistent on keeping his precious wife away from the heavy work. Rather, he encouraged your herb collecting and training with some of the city healers. You were grateful for him, truly. Most men would sequester their wives in their homes and work them to their deaths from labor, both of earth and child.

But Hanno was different.

He taught you to read, speak, and write in Latin. He would easily switch between Numidian, Phoenician, and Latin until you could respond perfectly. When he took breaks from tilling, plowing, and managing the harder tasks with the animals, he sat next to you at your garden and asked about the different plants. He was never cruel, never struck you or screamed at you the way you had heard other wives whisper to one another. In fact, Hanno was exceedingly kind to you and to anyone he didn’t view as a threat.

Which is why you thought this was a nightmare at first.

The horns of war sounded and you stood up straight to watch as the beacons erupted with fire at the top of the wall. Fear seized your heart and you stood frozen, transfixed, by the flames that licked the sky. Smoke curled off the top of them and the smell burned at your nose. You might have stood there all day if it hadn’t been for Hanno rushing out of the small house to your side.

“Come,” your husband instructed you. “We must get ready.”

He grasped your arm gently and it snapped you out of your reverie. Swallowing down your panic, you followed him into the house and to the small trunk he had made to hold your armor. The two of you silently donned your gear and were nearly finished when Jugurtha came to your door.

“My lord,” you greeted him with a slight bow. The chieftain’s face betrayed nothing, but you could see the worry in his eyes. Hanno and Jugurtha would be in the heat of the battle, directly in the path of the oncoming Roman fury. Would the gods listen if you sent them a prayer now? It felt as though they had decided to abandon you.

“The healers are gathering at Taklit’s house.” Jugurtha looked at the two of you, a hidden regret in his gaze. “We will come retrieve you once we have claimed victory.”

“Yes, my lord.” Your voice had softened as you realized how quickly this was all happening.

“I will join you soon,” Hanno replied. Jugurtha nodded and left, his imposing figure leaving an empty space in the doorway and in your heart. Needing a distraction, you turned and focused your attention on securing Hanno’s armor. As your trembling fingers finished tightening his armor, his hand enfolded around yours and he drew your fingers up to his lips. Hanno placed a delicate kiss on the tips of each finger. You searched his face to memorize every last detail, from the crinkles beside his eyes to the slight curve of his lip. Only the gods knew how this battle would end and the anxiety felt like it was going to swallow you alive.

“We go as one,” he reminded you. “I will not lose you.”

“Nor I, you.” His lips ghosted over yours and you leaned up, capturing him in a searing kiss. You poured every ounce of your devotion, fear, and worry into the kiss and he took it all onto his broad shoulders, shielding you from this world. His hand fisted in your hair and he pulled you impossibly closer so he could sink the weight of his devotion into every fiber of your being.

The gods had granted you this man as your husband. Perhaps they had not abandoned you yet.

“Be brave, my Hanno,” you whispered once you broke apart. He pressed his brow to yours and you breathed him in. “Be strong and be brave. And come back to me.”

The warm metal of his betrothal ring pressed into the skin of your cheek as he cradled your face between his hands. He kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your clammy skin. You savored the ring, this physical reminder of his tie to you, and touched the one that rested on your hand as a reminder of your tie to him.

“I will see you soon, my love.”

How bittersweet endings are, you thought to yourself as the walls of the city were seized by Romans. Men and women fell left and right from the parapets and you knew there was no help you could give them once their bodies hit the ground. Instead, you watched in horror as Roman soldiers grew closer and closer to where you were stationed and awaiting the wounded. You could see Hanno at the top of the wall fighting for his very life and your heart beat wildly in your chest at the sight of so many men around him falling in battle. Would he be next?

A cry of pain nearby alerted you to someone needing help. One of your people had been caught within the crosshairs of an archer and you rushed out of the house to grab them and drag them to safety. The child, only a mere babe, shrieked in agony as you dove to cover his little body when another arrow went sailing over your head. Even over the din of war, you heard Hanno scream your name.

A Roman soldier grabbed you by your hair and yanked you up off the ground, forcing your back to bend sharply and a shout to emerge from your lips. He drew his sword, placing it to your throat with the intention of drawing your blood, your life, out of you with one swift pull. Despite knowing it wouldn’t help, you shouted your status in Latin.

“Healer! I’m a healer!” Perhaps he would be merciful. Perhaps he would let you go. Your eyes sought out the top of the wall and you saw Hanno desperately fighting to get to you, but he was too far away. The blade knicked the soft skin of your throat.

Two things happened simultaneously. One, a general pointed at you from the crowd and yelled at his man to stop. Two, Hanno was shoved off the wall and into the sea, right where huge rocks clashed with the waves.

A scream escaped you. A wail. War makes widows, your mother had said. And here you were, one of them.

The soldier removed his blade and forced you up to your feet, shoving you back in the direction of the house. You scrambled to scoop up the child in your arms. If you could not save your love, maybe you could at least save a mother from grief.

The child died in your arms by the time you stepped into the healer house.

Numidia fell. Rome claimed victory and dominion over the land. Hanno was dead.

You busied yourself with tending to the wounded in hopes that you wouldn’t think about the fact that you were now under Rome’s control, a widow, and possibly homeless. What would happen next? Would they let you retrieve his body? Or would they throw him into a pile and burn it all along with the city itself?

A shadow fell over you as you tended to one of your own. You looked up to find the general gazing down at you. All at once, you were filled with hot rage and the deepest sorrow. You stood quickly, your hand reaching for a stray knife on the ground but he merely raised a brow. Right. What skill do you have against a Roman general?

“You’re a healer,” he said, not as a question. “And you speak Latin. How?”

“How do I heal or how do I speak Latin?” you spat. He remained stoic and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. You would never reveal Hanno’s secrets. Not even under the threat of death.

“My husband is-” You stopped yourself and swallowed hard. “Was a merchant. He taught me so I could help him sell.”

“But you are a healer.”

You shrugged. “We do what we must.”

He studied you carefully and then nodded at one of his soldiers. A sudden bolt of terror struck you. Was this your future? To be a general’s plaything? A concubine? Some kind of bed warmer until he got back to Rome and disposed of you into the nearest brothel?

No. You were the wife of Hanno, a kind man and a good soldier.

“If you expect me to lay with you, I ask that you let me slit my wrists first so that I can die knowing I never let you take more from me than you already have,” you hissed. The soldier went to unsheathe his sword, but the general raised a hand to stop him. He took in your figure and the way you trembled with rage and grief.

“I need a healer,” he explained. “For my men. I will not touch you, for I am a married man, and you are a widow.”

He turned to the soldier once again. “Place her in chains and then put her in my room. Do not lay a finger on her, nor let anyone else.”

What choice did you have? If you defied them, you would be dead. If you went with them, you would have a chance to avenge Hanno before you died. Either way, you would join your husband in the afterlife. Going meant you had a chance to drag another life with you on the journey.

You dropped the blade and let the soldier lead you to the ships, not daring to look at the mass of bodies being piled up on the sand. Tears blurred your vision as you were hauled onto the ship. The keening wails of mourners raised above the fractured walls and you watched as smoke started to envelope the city. Just this morning, you had been thinking about spring planting and now you were a Roman slave.

What fresh hell was this?

The soldier clamped the heavy irons onto your wrists, connecting them together, and then attached two to your feet as well, forcing you into a shuffle as he then moved further below deck to a room. He tossed a thin blanket onto the wooden floor and pointed at it. You needed no words to explain that it would be your new bed.

When the door shut behind him, you fell to your knees over the chamber pot and promptly threw up everything in your stomach. An agonized sob tore from your lungs and you grit your teeth to silence the wail that threatened to emerge. You beat your fists on the hard, unforgiving wooden floor and wept silent tears, rocking back and forth in time to the crests and waves of the wailing mourners outside. Your people were subjugated. Your home was destroyed.

Your Hanno was dead.

Oh Thisbe, you thought as hot tears coursed down your cheeks. I understand. I understand. I understand. If I cannot shoulder this burden, then let the gods strike me down so that I may join him in peace.

“Tell us a story!”

The voices of children bubbled up over the crowd and Hanno looked up from sharpening his sword to find a woman surrounded. The kids eagerly mobbed her, their little heads bobbing up and down as they pleaded for her to tell them a tale. A basket balanced precariously on her head, but she seemed as though there was no worry about it falling.

But the thing that Hanno noticed the most was that she was completely and utterly beautiful.

“Who is that?” Jugurtha smiled at the young soldier’s question. He saw the way the woman captured his gaze. He knew that look in his eyes.

Jugurtha said your name quietly and explained how your family used to live on the outskirts of the city so they could accommodate a larger farm, but recent skirmishes in the area had wounded your father and drew you behind the walls of the city. Hanno had met your father before and made a mental note to visit the man and see how he was healing. Perhaps he would bring some fresh fruits from the merchants.

Jugurtha must have caught onto his train of thought because he called you over. The gaggle of children followed closely behind and you laughed, a sound that Hanno delighted in hearing.

“Are you interested in a story too, my lord?” You said in greeting. Jugurtha grinned and gestured for you to sit.

“You’ve been hard at work. Take a moment to rest and tell the children a story.”

With careful hands, you reached up and lowered the basket to the ground. Hanno could see it was full of various types of plants and fabrics. He had a million questions swirling around in his head. What did you do to pass the time? Where were you staying? Did you like it here? He stayed silent, however, as you slowly lowered yourself onto the ground. Your dress pooled around your legs and the coins on your shawl clinked against each other. What would you look like bare? He banished the thought as soon as it appeared.

“Come.” You beckoned the children to sit around you and gathered one of the youngest into your lap. The child reached up and played with the ends of your veil and you smiled down at her before beginning your story.

“Long ago, there was a queen of Numidia by the name of Kahina. When invaders came to Numidia to conquer us, she stood strong and fought them off with all of her might. Kahina was brave and smart, using both her strength and her mind to push the invaders back.” You launched into a tale filled with drama, some comedy, and even a bit of romance that had the kids shouting and cheering with glee. Hanno even stopped cleaning his weapons to sit and listen. He was enraptured by the way you kept the kids engaged as you weave your tale. The child in your lap started to drift off and you didn’t even hesitate before drawing her closer into your arms and cradling her.

“Queen Kahina is a reminder to all of us,” you declared. “That each of us has the power to stand up for ourselves, to do what’s right, and to be proud of who we are.” You gazed out onto the sea of little heads bobbing their agreement and then looked up to lock gazes with Hanno. For a brief moment, it felt like everything in the world went still. He scarcely knew he was breathing until Jugurtha nudged him. You tore your gaze away and offered a brilliant smile to the children. Clapping your hands together, you shooed them back towards the gathering of homes.

“Your mothers are probably wondering where you’ve gone off to. Now, go home and do some chores to help her out.”

“Oh, but we want another story!” One boy cried out. You huffed out a laugh and shook your head, your veils moving like buttery silk across your skin.

“Only if you finish your chores for the day. I will ask your mother and you know I will. Now, off with you!”

The children dashed off, leaving you with the sleeping babe in your arms. You slowly started to rise, intent on not waking her, when Hanno spoke.

“Here, let me carry your basket.” He stood and took the wicker basket from the ground so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying both child and items. You regarded him warily at first and Jugurtha had to hide his smile behind his hands.

Truth be told, you were one of the most desired women in the city. You were also one of the least trusting. Your mother desperately tried to set you up with suitor after suitor, but none met your standards. Your father laughed off your mother’s attempts and said that the gods would lead the right man to you. You were older than most women to be unmarried, but you remained steadfast in your belief that the right man would come someday.

And perhaps today was that day.

Jugurtha offered you a short nod to express his approval of Hanno and your suspicious expression melted somewhat. You turned and started to walk towards the village. When you realized that the handsome man with blue eyes wasn’t following, you glanced back at him.

“Are you coming or not?”

Hanno scrambled to catch up and quickly joined your steps, a smile cresting on his face as he asked you about how you were settling into the city.

Hanno cried when his mother sent him away. He sobbed when he fled his hiding place, cried on the boat crossing, and sniffled away into his sleep the first few days of living in Numidia. But he had never wept like he did when they tossed him into the hold of the ship with a Roman brand on his shoulder and a ring that felt infinitely heavy on his finger.

The last thing he saw before plunging into the sea was the blade sliding across your neck. Stuck between the two worlds of consciousness, he saw flickers of a wheatfield stretched before him and, for a moment, saw the outline of your body amongst the stalks. He reached out, his hand passing through where you stood, and then you disappeared from his grasp.

Coming to, he rushed from the sea and towards the city, but two Romans stopped him. He needed to find your body. He needed to see that you were buried properly. He was never as devoted to the gods as you were. You kept idols on the hearth and prayed regularly, but he only found himself turning to the gods at a time like this. But, right now, he found himself praying to Viduus, Libitina, and Proserpina.

Let her soul cross, Mercury. Bring her to the Fields of Elysium. Please. Tell her I will meet her on the other side.

He was forced to kneel next to Jugurtha, stripped of his armor and weapons, and watched as they loaded body after body into a pit. Jugurtha’s gaze never left the growing pile, even as he asked the question that Hanno dreaded.

“She’s gone,” he said, his throat raw from screaming your name across the battlefield. Did it hurt? He wondered. Was it instant? Did you feel pain? His sweet wife who dedicated her life to healing and helping died in such a brutal manner. His hands curled into fists as rage filled his veins. You were supposed to die at an old age, tucked in his arms and surrounded by your children. That’s what he planned that day so long ago when he walked you home, basket in his arms and a babe in yours. You dropped the child off with her mother and he refused to let you take your basket back, instead carrying it to your small house where he checked in on your father, met your mother, and charmed your whole family.

He craned his neck to see the dead lying a few feet away in hopes of catching a glimpse of any sign of you but there were too many dead. Too many lost. He saw the man he had bought silk from two days earlier. The midwife in the village. So many of the soldiers he had helped train.

Hanno glanced beside him and saw a fellow healer who was weeping openly. He leaned closer and asked if she knew anything about what happened to you.

“They took her,” she wailed. “They took her.”

Any grief that remained calcified into pure, hot rage. They took your body? For what sick purpose? To desecrate your corpse? To taint you with their hatred and their delusions of power, even when you were already dead? He started to rise, intent on seeking out your corpse and draping himself over it so that he would still be holding you when they killed him. Jugurtha stopped him with a shaking hand around his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” the leader lamented. “But not like this. This is not how you will die.”

Hanno’s eyes fixed on the man standing in front of the soldiers, in front of the keening mothers and children, in front of the men he had defeated and stripped of their armor to expose their humiliation. Hanno remembered the way he pointed directly at you, encouraging the soldier to keep the bloodshed continuing, and knew what Jugurtha meant.

He was going to kill him, and then he would reunite with you in the afterlife.

“Tell me a story,” Lulit encouraged as the two of you picked herbs from outside the city. The two of you rode out early this morning to gather herbs not grown in the village gardens. Lulit was with child and Jugurtha insisted on a guard coming with you and you glanced over at the man asleep at the base of the tree that the horses were tied to.

You paused for a moment to consider which tale you should tell. Recently, the only stories that came to mind were romances. Your face burned at the thought, but you knew why they were the only things that floated to your memory. A certain blue-eyed man had consumed every waking thought of yours and it was driving you mad.

He was a consummate gentleman and always found ways to visit your family. He started helping your father get his new trading business up and running in the city. He brought your mother fresh wheat to bake bread. He carved toys from wood and willow reeds for your siblings.

Hanno was the man of your dreams. He was exceedingly kind, handsome, and funny. He was sincere and wasn’t putting on some kind of face to impress you. He was just truly nice to everyone he met. You saw him once helping one of the elders bundle their wheat harvest and carry it into their house. Jugurtha had already come by and assured your parents of Hanno’s good nature.

He had started to teach you Latin and how to read and write Phoenician and Numidian. He told you stories from other empires and listened intently when you told him tales your grandmother had told you. The gods had indeed brought the right man, the perfect man.

“Psyche was one of three daughters of a king and a queen of a far away land. She was renowned for her beauty and praised among the land as the second coming of the goddess of beauty. Her admirers would bring offerings and gifts to her, angering the goddess, who decided that Psyche must be punished.”

A thorn caught on your finger and you let out a hiss of pain as you brought your finger to your lips, sucking the blood away. You began to continue your work and your story when a horn trumpeted across the sky.

The sounds of war.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you immediately looked to Lulit. Her face had drained of color and she traded a worried glance with you. In the time you had lived here, the horns had never sounded.

“We need to move.” Despite being asleep moments earlier, Hanno was already leading the horses to the two of you.

“Who is it?” You knew better than to stall, especially when he wore such a serious expression. He helped you climb onto the back of your horse and paused for only a moment, one of his warm palms resting on your skirt-covered thigh.

“A small war party, by the looks of it. Nothing the defense can’t handle. But we need to get out of the way before they attack. There’s a forest just a few paces away, but we need to get moving.” He ensured that you and Lulit were secured before he climbed onto his own horse. Dust grew in the east and you felt your worry build with it. Hanno tugged at the reins of your horse, urging you to follow. You urged your horse into a gallop and kept close to him, but you still looked over your shoulder to gauge how close the marauders were.

“Hanno.” Your voice carried a warning and he looked back to see a rider closing in on them. He let out an expletive and pointed to the trees that were nearing with every step.

“Go! I’ll find you.” He slowed his horse and fell in line with you, his bright eyes meeting yours. “I swear to you.”

You swallowed against your rising panic and he sent you a reassuring smile before he turned his horse around and rode off in the direction of your pursuer. You looked back to watch as he drew his sword with expert ease.

Focus, you chastised yourself. You need to focus.

Lulit silently followed you as you led the way to the forest. Once the trees began to cloud your vision, you looked back and saw nothing but dirt and sky. He would be okay. He had to be.

Dismounting, you grabbed the reins of your horse and led her further into the forest until you came to a clearing with a good underbrush. You tied the horses and instructed Lulit to dig out some of the underbrush so she could lay down and rest while you brushed out the horses.

“Are we in danger?” she asked. Were you? You had no clue. But you set your shoulders and covered her with the blanket she kept on her saddle.

“Hanno would never let anything happen to us,” you told her. You settled down onto the soft grass next to her. “Let me continue my story. While Psyche’s sisters married, she found herself still unmarried and that worried her father who consulted a seer. The seer predicted an awful outcome for the beautiful daughter, one of a brutish husband in the form of a dragon who came to claim her and whom the gods feared. But truthfully, the goddess of beauty had been so enraged by the people’s devotion to Psyche that she sent her son to enchant her with a hideous creature, but instead found himself falling in love with her.”

Lulit curled up onto her side, cradling her growing belly with her hands as she listened raptly to your story. You spoke of the trials the lovers endured in their pursuit of one another, but as you began to wrap up the story, you found that she had drifted off to sleep.

A branch cracked nearby and you flinched. There was a small knife in your saddlebags that you used for foraging and silently, you crept over to your horse and retrieved it. The leaves rustled and you spun to face whatever beast dared to come close. You held your knife aloft and pointed it in the direction of where the noise was coming from. Oh, you were not brave. You were a farmer’s daughter and a healer. The most you knew with a knife was how to butcher an animal.

“You need to adjust your thumb to the other side,” Hanno said in greeting as he stepped through the forest and into the clearing. “It will give you better control.”

With a ragged sigh of relief, your shoulders fell from their tensed position and you dropped the knife onto the grass below. He stooped to catch it and studied the small blade with a hint of a smile. Droplets of blood stained his face and you carefully examined him for any sign of injuries.

“I am unharmed, my little warrior,” he teased. He rose and handed you the knife once more. “And I will make sure to teach you how to use that.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He could easily be lying. Father always brushed off your mother’s worries so as to not incite her own anxieties. Hanno raised his arms from his sides and slowly turned so you could see that he was indeed unharmed. His sword hung from its scabbard and you could see that blood still lingered on its surface.

“Are we safe?”

His eyes darkened and he stepped closer, his hands hovering over your waist. He searched your face for something, you weren’t sure, but dipped his head into a nod. “Aye. I would never let anything happen to you. To you or Lulit.”

“Then rest, soldier. Let me clean your sword.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but determination furrowed your brows and Hanno reluctantly unstrapped his sword from his side and handed it to you. This was a task you had witnessed your mother perform before when your father took on anyone trying to attack the farm. Blood was not a foreign thing to you, even if Hanno appeared to want to protect you from it.

You took a rag from your saddle pack and sat down by a tree. Hanno joined you, his back against the bark and his eyes studying the treeline for any disturbance. Slowly and methodically, you ran the rag over his blade and ensured that every last drop of blood and gore was cleaned from it. He searched your face for any sign of fear. Fear of what? Of him? A man who so willingly charged into danger to protect you engendered no fear from you.

“There,” you declared. “Good as new.”

He gratefully accepted the blade from you and placed it back in his scabbard. The sun was starting to set and the glow between the trees created a halo of light around you. He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair out of your face before curling his knuckles against your jaw and stroking his thumb over your cheek. You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into his palm, savoring the rough drag of his calloused fingers against your soft skin.

You loved him. Oh, the thought made your heart race and you surged forward. He caught your waist in his calloused hands and let his lips meet yours in a breathless kiss. Hanno groaned against your touch and you pulled away, thinking he was hurt with some injury you hadn’t seen, but he merely cupped your face and pulled you back in so he could nip at your lips and soothe the slight sting with his tongue. You whimpered at his touch and kissed him once again, moving your hands down to trace along the hard lines of his chest. Your hand moved lower and Hanno quickly pulled away from you, one of his hands catching yours and tangling your fingers with his.

“Not yet,” he panted against your cheek. “Not yet.”

Dawn was breaking when you awoke. Your head rested on a blanket that you recognized as Hanno’s while your own draped over you, protecting you from the bitterly cold nights of Numidia. Your soldier sat wide awake and alert beside you and you could tell, from the fatigue weighing down his eyes, that he hadn’t slept a wink through the night. A silent sentry, guarding you and Lulit from any unseen danger.

The blanket fell from your shoulder as you began to sit up and he instinctively reached over to drag it back up your shoulder, bathing you in warmth from both the outside and surging through your insides at his tenderness.

You woke Lulit and the three of you rode back to the city, barely making it in time before a search party headed by Lulit’s husband went out. He wept when he saw his wife and swept her into his arms. Two men offered to take your horses to the stables to care for them and you graciously accepted. Hanno refused to leave your side until he deposited you at your doorstep.

It was still early but you knew your parents would be awake, both from their anxiety and their history as farmers. Your mother let out a shriek when she saw you approach and ran from the doorway to hug you. Hanno squeezed your hand once and made to step away, but you kept your fingers tightly entwined with his.

“I believe you have something to ask of my father,” you explained. His brows raised in surprise and you offered him a shy smile. As your mother ran back to the house to exclaim of your return, you raised your clasped hands so you could press a kiss to his dirt-stained skin.

“Are you sure?” His hesitation had nothing to do with you, but rather in his belief that he was not good enough for you. You laughed and started to drag him in the direction of the house.

“You foolish man.” A boyish grin lit up his face and he followed you inside.

“What happens to me once we reach Rome?”

General Acacius looked up from the letter he was writing and turned to face you. The floor barely made a comfortable place to lay your head, but he had at least given you blankets and removed the chains from your legs. They only went back on when you were on the deck, thanks in part to your failed attempt to jump overboard and sink into the sea.

“My wife will find a place for you in her house,” he explained. You scoffed and picked at the dried blood under your fingernails. You spent your days stitching up and tending to the wounds of Roman soldiers and spent your nights curled up on the floor of this room, dreaming of bright blue eyes and a crooked smile.

“Why? Couldn’t you just drop me off at the nearest brothel and let them rip me apart?” His compassion, minimal at best but still present, confused you. To him, you were barbarian scum. A conquered people. Prisoner of war, spoils, an artifact of his military prowess. He winced at your accusation, knowing that it was true for many military campaigns that the women were subjugated into the slave trade and forced into prostitution. The general refused to meet your eyes and you savored what little bit of power you held over him.

You could picture it now. You would demure yourself and behave in his wife’s house until you found a chance to slit her throat and leave him with the same raw, empty feeling that consumed you.

“You have skills that would be useful,” he muttered. “Your husban-”

“Don’t you dare speak of him,” you hissed. “My husband was a good and kind man. You do not deserve to speak of him.”

“He taught you well,” he continued on. “Lucilla could use someone with your skill set.”

The name made you pause and you tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing as you mentally ran through your memories. “Lucilla, daughter of Aurelius?”

He regarded you with suspicion. “Aye. How do you know of her?”

“Everyone knows of Marcus Aurelius,” you retorted. “I’d be a fool not to.”

A sudden knock on the door drew his attention away from you and he rose to answer it. General Acacius left the room to sort out some sort of issue and left you alone with your thoughts. You drew your knees up to your chest and rested your cheek against your folded arms. If you shut your eyes, you could see his face. If you thought hard enough, you could feel him in your dreams. The rough stubble of his beard. The high plains of his cheekbones. The crooked smile he gave you when he made you laugh.

Lucilla, daughter of Aurelius, you ran the words over and over in your head. Aurelius. Aurelius.

You could only hope that Hanno would forgive you if you delayed your joining with him in the afterlife for a little bit longer.

He slept fitfully on the ship and in the cages. He dreams of your eyes, your laugh, your smile, and wakes with your name on his lips in a strangled cry that he buries into his bicep and lets only a few tears leak out onto his battered skin.

He has nightmares most nights and the lack of sleep fuels his rage. Dark circles take hold under his eyes and weariness leaves red rims around his blue pupils, making him appear as the wild barbarian they purport him to be. His muscles ache and scream and bruises litter his torso. He bites a monkey back and savors the burning anger that courses through his veins. The crowds cheer and shout and applaud his fury, but he pays them no mind. All he focuses on is going back to his cell and dreaming of you once more.

Killing men has never been an issue for him. He was raised a fighter, even in Numidia where he helped Jugurtha lead their forces. He fought in skirmishes and battles. When he met you, it brought another reason to keep the fight going. He refused to let a single person pass into the gates of the city when you were seeking protection inside. He had failed you, and every new scar on his body was merely penance.

Ravi chastises him for the way that he seeks out injury, but the man doesn’t refuse to help him. In an opium-fueled haze, Hanno tells him quietly that his wife was a healer. She was exceedingly kind and gentle. Too gentle for him. He was scared he would break her with his brutish nature, but she was also enduringly strong. A stray tear slips down his cheek and he tosses the opium aside in favor of feeling the pain and knowing that it pales in comparison to the ache in his chest. His grief builds and compounds into this sickening version of him that he cannot recognize. The blood of other men stains his skin, no matter how hard he scrubs in the baths. Even when the iron-thick substance is gone, he can still see it.

Macrinus brought the finest courtesans by his cell, but he refused them everytime. Once, the girl shared a similar hair color as you and he invited her into his cell, but merely let her rest on his cot while he sat at his desk and sketched what he could remember of your face on thin papyrus.

When he looked into the stands and saw your murderer seated with his mother, his rage calcified into his heart. With every kill, he pictured your pale face crying out for him. With every breath, he reminded himself of his failure to protect you. His mother had the audacity to reason with him.

“Do you have a family?” Lucilla asked.

He says your name with the reverence afforded to the gods and then hisses out that you were dead and taken from him by her husband. How dare she try to call her son home when she shares a bed with that monster? Ferality consumed him and his thirst for revenge. He meant what he said to Macrinus. Only Acacius’ head will quench this fire in his blood. For a sickening moment, he wants his mother to feel the way he does.

There are times when the night is darkest that his mind descends into the throes of the deepest depression and he wonders about how you would feel if you saw him like this. There is one nightmare that plays over and over again in his mind. He is in the Colosseum and the crowd is cheering in their bloodlust. The gates open and he steps out to face his next opponent, only to find you standing in the sand with your hands outstretched towards him. In this dream, he can’t stop himself from raising his blade an-

He woke up screaming.

Hanno doesn’t trust Macrinus within an inch of his life, but he trusts that he’ll bring him Acacius and that…that will be enough.

“Can I tell you a story?” Hanno whispered into your hair.

The wedding was an all-day event. You looked resplendent with flowers woven in your hair and layers of colorful fabric adorning your body. It felt as though the whole city came out to celebrate your union and the dancing, food, and music flowed for hours. Jugurtha clapped his hands on Hanno’s shoulders and congratulated him. A knowing glint flashed in the older man’s eyes and Hanno was eternally grateful for the man’s meddling.

Your father had tears in his eyes when he took your hand from his and placed it into Hanno’s, but they were tears of joy. When discussing the marriage negotiations and dowry, your father declared that there was no one greater for his daughter. In his vows, Hanno promised to protect and provide for you until his very last breath, one that he would take with you in his arms at an old age, with your children around you.

As the night grew longer, the crowds began to thin out. Parents took sleeping children home and the elders slipped away so they could rise early and start their daily chores. The fires began to burn low and Hanno looked over to you, only to have his breath catch in his throat at the realization.

His wife. His wife. Your lovely face was now his to wake up to every morning and your sweet laughter was his to elicit. Izim was telling some tall tale about his adventures as a sentry, but Hanno didn’t hear a single word. He ignored the hoots and hollers of his fellow soldiers and friends as he left their group and strode towards you.

The women around you tittered and giggled as he approached and it drew your attention away from whatever Seble was telling you. You barely had time to react when he suddenly scooped you into his arms. Hanno easily cradled you to him, your long veils swirling around the two of you, and he made his way towards the new house he had built with the help of your father and a few friends. The party cheered and you hid your laughter into the crook of his neck.

Hanno stopped in the doorway and set you gently onto your feet so you could examine your new home. Someone, your mother, you presumed, had already set some lanterns alight in the house and a clay jar of flowers sat on the small wooden table in the center of the room. It was a small house with the bed on one side and a small kitchen on the other. You traced your hand along the furniture that you knew he constructed himself. Your dowry chest laid at the foot of the bed already and a loom was on the wall. Your husband had done all of this.

The word made your throat squeeze with a level of affection you had never experienced before. He watched you carefully from the doorway, but you could see tension in the line of his shoulders and how his hands fidgeted until he clasped them behind his back. The flames from the lanterns made his eyes glow and heightened the smooth planes of his face. You reached up and unclasped your veils, letting them pool at your feet before you took a step forward.

He met you halfway, his hands going to settle on your waist as you nestled into his strong arms. Your hands came up to rest on the rough fabric of his tunic and you could feel his heart beat wildly under the tips of your fingers.

“My husband,” you breathed to the heavens. You wanted the gods to know that this man was yours. He had placed an iron ring on your finger and you savored the weight of it, the press of it against your skin. Hanno’s lips lifted in the barest hint of a grin, but his eyes took on almost burning intensity.

With nimble fingers, you released the clasps of his tunic yet kept your gaze locked on his as the fabric pooled to the ground. Hanno’s breaths grew ragged as you settled your hands back onto the chiseled muscle of his chest. For a moment, nothing happened. You just stared at one another as the air electrified with palpable energy. You had no idea where this boldness emerged from, but you slid your hand down his bicep, along his arm, and then to his wrist where you clasped it and raised his hand to rest on your breast. He swallowed so hard you could see his throat bob and just the simple evidence of his arousal made your skin burn.

“My wife,” he said hoarsely and untied your dress.

Hanno sucked in a shuddering breath as the fabric fell away from your body and joined his on the floor. He stroked his hands over your quivering flesh and stepped forward so that his body pressed against the length of yours. You felt him harden against your thigh as he leaned down to capture your lips in his. The two of you had kissed plenty of times, from small chaste pecks to that heated moment in the forest, but this felt entirely new and you welcomed it. He nibbled at your lips and explored your mouth with the desperation of a dying man searching for water. You moaned your approval which encouraged him and he let one of his hands drift down to cup your breast.

Hanno’s touch made your skin light on fire with every simple brush. How were you supposed to act when the man strutted around shirtless most of the time and built your house? Some of the older women in the city gossiped about their husbands. They told you about how it hurt, about the way he took without giving, and how they hated it.

From the delicate way Hanno touched you and the tender press of his lips against your pulse point, you knew that this would be different. He bent down and hauled you up against him, your legs wrapping around his waist for security, but you knew he would never drop you. You slid your arms around his neck, pulling your chest flush with his and he let his head fall back with a sinful groan, exposing the column of his throat. Eagerly, you licked a stripe up against his sweat-tinged skin and savored the taste of salt, musk, and man.

“By the gods, you will be the end of me, my little wife.” His teeth enclosed around the hinge of your jaw and you let your head fall to the side with a little sigh. Hanno nipped at the skin of your neck and you jolted against him, causing his throbbing cock to brush against you. Hanno squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation that wracked his body and you turned your head so he was facing you. Running your thumb along his jaw, you pulled your husband into another kiss and then pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath and his hold tightened on you, sending a zing of pain mixed with pleasure down your spine.

“Take me to bed, husband,” you panted against his mouth. “Claim me as yours.”

Furs and silk lined the bed and softened your fall. You marveled at the way he prepared everything for you, even bringing over the blankets you wove for your marriage chest and setting them on the bed. He planted himself over you, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he took and you stole a glance down his broad chest to the heavy manhood that stood proud between his thighs. Your body pulsed with want even as your mind protested the idea of taking his length. He sensed your apprehension and leaned down to place a gentle kiss against your temple, your brow, both eyelids, and then your lips once more.

“I cannot promise it to be painless,” he said. “But I will do everything in my power to make sure you find bliss too.”

One of his hands snaked down to your most intimate place and your eyes widened with shock as he brushed the pad of his finger along the seam of your cunt. Your legs spread further apart instinctively and he kissed you in thanks for your invitation. A gasp escaped you as one of his fingers slid past your entrance and he kissed away your shock, even as you felt the rough and calloused pad of his finger slide up and press against some part of you that had you seeing stars. A little whimper from you had him pausing and he immediately pulled his hand away, eliciting a low whine from his wife. Hanno couldn’t stop his cocky smile that spread across his face before he touched that part of you again. His finger drew a circle over your flesh and your hips canted up, a mewl spilling past your lips and your breath catching. He stole a kiss, then another as he sent electricity up your spine and shocks scattered through your bones.

“You are magnificent,” he murmured just as he slipped another finger into your aching cunt. For a moment, you felt a hint of discomfort and bit your lip to refrain from making a sound. Hanno frowned and pulled your lip out from between your teeth. Some small part of you whispered ugly words and lies into your mind in an attempt to push his affection away. He only wanted you because other men did. You were merely a token to conquer. He needed a wife before he could get a concubine.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds.” He kissed the corner of your lips and you turned your head to see him properly once more. His eyes burned with a hunger you had seen before like in the forest or when he saw you carry one of the village babes on your hip. Hanno cheek pressed against your own and he whispered into your ear as he sank one finger into you and then two. He told you how proud he was of you, how good you were for him, how precious you were, as he pulled little cries of pleasure from you. You tightened around his fingers and he leaned back and watched your face as your body twitched and seized with the electric shocks of pleasure. A proud smile captured his face and he craned his head down to kiss you again and again and again. You climbed higher, higher, higher but then he abruptly pulled his hand from you, leaving you empty and aching.

“I know, I know,” he groaned in that deep timbre bass that wracked through your body. Hanno rubbed a gentle circle into your outer thigh and shifted himself until he was kneeling between your spread legs. He grasped his cock in one hand and pressed his other hand to your hip, holding you in place under his heavy gaze. You squirmed as his eyes raked down your naked body and the little thoughts began to creep in once more, but he silenced them with one word.

“Divine.” Hanno leaned down and laid the flat of his tongue along your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a choked out gasp and for a moment, you thought you died and entered the afterlife. He chuckled against your inner thigh and pressed a kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his heels. He stroked his thick length twice before moving closer to you. He nestled his face against your hair and inhaled the sweet scent of rose petals. His cheek rested on your temple, and he shocked you with his question.

“Can I tell you a story?”

You choked back a laugh and kissed the shell of his ear. “I suppose.” While you were the typical storyteller, you would always accept whatever he gave you.

“There was a king of the island of Ithaca by the name of Ulysses*. He was sent to fight in the Trojan War and on the way home, was blown off course. The journey home took over ten years and was filled with countless obstacles and dangers.” You gasped as the blunt head of his cock slid past your entrance and Hanno inhaled deeply. “Odysseus had a wife, the queen of Ithaca, named Penelope. A hundred suitors from the various lands and tribes came in an attempt to woo her and take her hand in marriage. Everyone thought Odysseus to be dead.”

He rocked his hips and his thick length began to split you open and your lips parted in a silent moan. Any air that was in your lungs seemed to evaporate as he filled you fully. Hanno swallowed your shaky whimper with a sweet kiss. You clawed for purchase against his chest, your limbs liquifying when he pulled out. Hanno caught your hand in his and flipped your hand over so he could pepper kisses along the inside of your wrist.

“Penelope was a devoted wife and ever faithful. She never doubted that Odysseus was alive and would come back to her. She lied to the suitors and told them that she would marry them when she finished weaving a funeral shroud. But she undid her work each night.” This time, his intrusion didn’t have the burn like the last thrust. Instead, his cock dragged against your walls in such a way that had your eyes rolling back into your head.

Hanno groaned as he started a steady thrust of his hips. He moved your hands above your head and entangled his fingers with yours, squeezing them in assurance as he fucked you. The pleasure burned so hot in your stomach and consumed your entire being. Everytime he thrust in, it felt like he was carving you out and branding you with his claim and oh, how you wanted this. He built this house for you and your future and even though he put a roof over your head, you saw stars with every touch against your skin.

“Ha-Hann…” You whined as he hit a certain spot that made your head spin. “Hanno.”

He frowned and slowed his thrusts and he touched your cheek, his thumb rubbing away the tear that you didn’t realize slipped down. “Does it hurt?”

You yanked him closer until his nose was touching yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he bottomed out in surprise.

“Don’t you dare stop.” He grinned that reckless, crooked smile of his and swept your lips into a bruising kiss as he fucked every last thought out of your head. His name became a prayer that you chanted to the skies as he took you higher and higher until that coil that wrapped in your stomach snapped. You clenched around his cock and your body seized up as your orgasm washed over you. Hanno let out a guttural, animalistic groan and he spilled his seed into you, flooding you with warmth.

Silence enveloped the two of you, only the heavy exhales from exertion permeating the bubble that surrounded you. Hanno’s body relaxed and he caught himself before he put all of his weight on you. Rolling to the side, his arm came up to curl around your front, and he pulled you to his chest. Nose to nose, you met his gaze and let your breath mingle with his.

“Penelope didn’t falter in her devotion,” you said hoarsely. “Did she?”

His hand drifted up and down the raised gooseflesh on your arm and he reached over to draw one of the furs over you. “Aye, she didn’t.”

You tossed the edge of the fur over him and kissed him once again. “I will always remain steadfast.”

His lips met your temple and he tucked your head under his chin. “And I shall always come for you. No matter what it takes.”

Acacius lead you into the villa, the shackles and a new plate around your neck indicating your designation as slave. Lucilla immediately greeted him with an embrace and you looked away, your heart shattering at the sight. Quiet words were exchanged between the two before Acacius paused and stepped back to display you.

“She is from Numidia,” he explained. “She has skills in healing and I felt she would be a good addition to the household.”

Lucilla approached you and took in your sorry state. You felt bile rise in your throat as you bowed your head to the woman, but she stopped you with a raised hand.

“What is your name?” she asked you in Phoenician. You paused before answering her in your second tongue. That’s when you saw her eyes and realized, with a jolt, that she was indeed the woman you had heard of.

“Leta,” Lucilla called for another slave. “Come. Show her to the baths and give her a fresh chiton. Acacius, unchain her.”

He obeyed his wife’s command, but the slate remained. Perhaps you would wear it for the rest of your, hopefully short, life. Leta, an older woman, silently beckoned you to follow her deeper into the villa where a few slave women were gathered together over a pool of warm water.

“Who is this?” one of them asked in Latin.

“A Barbarian whore for the general, I presume,” Leta replied. “He brought her from Numidia. Thing hasn’t had a bath in her whole life.”

You remained silent, hands clasped before you, even as Leta pointed towards the bath. “You. Wash.” You pretended not to understand and she huffed out an annoyed breath and marched off, leaving you to strip out of your ruined and bloody dress from home and step into the water. You didn’t want to wash the gore off of your skin. Not when it was your last reminder of home. Of him.

Taking a moment to look around, you tried to picture what it was like living here in all its splendor. Leta returned and tossed a dress for you onto the edge of the tile and you stared at it blankly. She turned her back to you and started to gossip with the other girls. Your hands scrubbed at your skin, but your ears picked up all that they were saying. Gladiator games, senators, the emperors, it was all banal and boring.

But you found it all invaluable.

When night fell, you slipped out from the tiny cot you had been given in the slave quarters and silently made your way through the halls. Mosaics lined the walls and depicted everything from myths to actual battles. You stopped at the bust of Marcus Aurelius and stared at it for a moment. Shaking your head, you moved on to the hall that everyone had pointedly walked past and Leta explained was off-limits. Or as she said, “no touch”, because she thought that your supposed inability to speak Latin was also an indication of your idiocy.

You pushed open the doors and entered the chambers. Dust covered every inch of the place, as if no one had been in here for years. You carefully made your way over a broken tile and into the bedchamber where the sheets were still unmade and a book lay open on the desk. Turning slowly, you took in the whole of the room with an unsteady inhale.

“The gates of hell are open night and day,” you whispered under your breath. The words were etched onto the top of the wall. “Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.” As you spoke, you could almost feel the presence of him at your back, his rough and low voice breathing the words into your ear.

You fled from the room, unable to bear it.

You almost made it back across the atrium when Lucilla emerged from seemingly out of nowhere. The two of you paused and you quickly lowered your head in deference.

“I hope you weren’t trying to escape,” she said gently. “Acacius told me that you were recently made a widow.”

The wince on your face was visible even in the moonlight and she stepped forward, her hands clasping over yours in comfort. She spoke her next words in Latin. “I am sorry. These meaningless deaths are foolish emperors playing war without considering the human cost of it.” The older woman patted your hand and made to leave, but your voice stopped her.

“Your slaves do not respect you,” you spoke in Latin. “Leta spreads vicious rumors about you and she said she has ties with some of the senators. Your allies are playing you and your plan is shaky at best.”

She whirled around to face you and you jutted your chin out in defiance, your eyes flashing with something dangerous. “In Numidia, my husband was the soldier, Domina. But I was the politician.”

Macrinus delivered on his promise. Acacius faced off with four soldiers in the Colosseum before Hanno was given a taste of vengeance and oh, did he savor it. Acacius ordered your death. Now, Hanno had the chance to ensure you were honored properly.

But Acacius stood across from him, sword on the ground, and accepted his death with a stoicism that Hanno only dreamed of possessing. The crowd roared and swelled with indignation after Hanno demanded to know their morals, but he was ushered away before he joined his father in dying in this ring.

He was granted the chance to see his mother one last time before her execution for treason and his slaughter in the arena. Lucilla told him of his father and he remembered meeting Maximus and how kind he was, even in the jaws of death. When his mother meets him for the last time, his only thought is how much Lucilla would like you.

She gave him two gifts in parting.

One, his grandfather’s ring.

Two, a lock of hair. And not just any…

Lucilla smiled sadly. “Acacius took her from Numidia to be a healer and didn’t realize she was your wife. She is safe, Lucius, and under the care of my household. I’m afraid I put it together too late, and she isn’t aware that you are here.”

For a moment, the rage subsided and he heard only a shrill ringing in his ears, as though he took a heavy blow to the head. Lucius turned the hair over in his hand and raised it to his nose, smelling a faint hint of rose petals.

I shall always come for you. No matter what it takes.

His mother was taken back to his cell and he took a moment to curl his palm around this fragment of you and press it to his chest to guard it from the world.

And then he called for Ravi.

Your hands remained steady when you slit Leta’s throat. You did so quietly, in the darkness of an alleyway. Blood never fazed you before, and the taking of a life was no different now. As far as you were concerned, this woman was one of the reasons why your Hanno was dead. Was it a rational thought? Perhaps not. But rationality would come another day.

The Colosseum roared with fury and you tried not to flinch at the deafening sound as you slipped in through the gates below, into the pens with the animals and gladiators. Chaos reigned above and below the world’s largest stadium so it was easy to blend in with others. The cloak you stole from Leta made you appear to be a fellow slave working amongst the masses. It never failed to amaze you how they called you a barbarian when they fought men to the death for their entertainment.

Your fingers skated over the smooth wood that curved over your spine and you felt a little better knowing that it was on you. The games were already underway with a few prisoners being devoured by Barbary lions as the crowd screamed for their blood to spill. You slipped around a few courtesans that lingered in the hall and passed the raised dais where three maidens were chained. Pushing on, you found a small corridor that was unoccupied and slipped in between the stones to hide from any roaming eyes.

The noise increased and you knew what was coming. Lucilla would be executed and Macrinus was to blame. The lanista was the mastermind of all of this, and you knew firsthand what war could do to people. You refused to let Lucilla die and, as much as you hated the Romans for what they took from you, the innocent children in the streets would die.

After this, you promised yourself, you would join Hanno.

Footsteps rushed past your hiding spot and when it quieted down in the hallway, you took that as a chance to peek out and see if you had an opening. You slipped out into the hall and darted towards one of the gates that was partly open. A bloodbath was the only word to describe what was happening in the Colosseum. You blanched at the sight of Lucilla tied to the dais, but it seemed as though the gladiators had it well in hand.

Removing the bow from your back, you notched an arrow onto the string and inhaled deeply. Macrinus was not hard to stop, thanks to his place behind Emperor Caracalla, but you didn’t have a clear shot. The crowd was turning on the Praetors and more soldiers entered the Colosseum on horseback. One Praetor nearly took the head off of a gladiator and you turned your bow in that direction.

Breathe in, aim, fire as you breathe out, Jugurtha had instructed. Keep your arm steady, your aim true, and your mind clear. There is no time to panic, just shoot.

The arrow sailed through the air and straight through the Praetor’s shoulder, knocking him off his horse and to the ground. You drew another arrow and started to aim towards Macrinus once more, but this time he was standing up. Caracalla was slumped over dead in front of him and Macrinus had his own bow in his hand.

Numidians were excellent horsemen and archers. Before you ever met Hanno, before you even bled for the first time, you were trained in the art of horsemanship and archery. Indeed your husband vowed his protection, but you were not one to go down without a fight. He taught you how to manipulate a knife, where to aim on the body, but Hanno never came close to your familiarity with a bow.

Your next arrow arched through the air and collided with Macrinus’ shot. The wood splintered midair and you loaded a third, but the lanista fled the stands before you could take another shot. It gave a gladiator the chance to free Lucilla and pass her to another gladiator, a hulking beast of a man. The gladiator gave chase to Macrinus and you focused your attention on your subject at hand.

There had to have been a reason the gods kept you alive and took Hanno. Clearly, it was to protect your husband’s mother.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re hiding from me?”

His hand stilled from where it had been absentmindedly stroking your thigh. Hanno came home from the field and immediately drew you into his lap, inhaling your sweet smell and letting his hands roam all over your body. You savored his touch, but marriage had sharpened your mind regarding his mannerisms. Something was bothering him.

Hanno sighed and he nuzzled his nose against your shoulder. You let him have this moment, but you would weasel the truth out of him, someway or another.

“Is it another woman? A concubine?” you asked, your voice hushed and wounded. He laid a kiss against your skin and shook his head.

“Rome is moving closer,” he finally said. You turned so you could see his face and cupped his chin, drawing his head up to meet your gaze. He blinked up at you with those sky blue eyes of his and nestled into your palm until he could lay a gentle kiss there.

“My name, my real name,” he whispered, “is Lucius Verus Aurelius and I am the prince of Rome.”

The first thing he did after ascending his rightful place as Emperor of Rome was go to his mother’s villa.

Lucilla was fine, a small gash on her bicep and shaken up, but fine. He tried to be a good son, but she could tell his focus was on anywhere but her. Lucilla directed him to the gardens and that is where he found you.

The Roman dress was different from what he was used to seeing, but you still covered your head with a veil when praying to your gods. Head tilted towards the heavens, hands outstretched, you made a beautiful image of devotion.

Your feet inched closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Forgive me, my love, for being so weak that I could not do this sooner,” you said. Tears coursed down your cheeks and stained the fabric of your chiton with damp tracks. You muttered a mixture of prayer and apology and he strained to hear it.

“Give me the strength to commit this final act, oh gods, grant me this. I have protected his mother and granted her the life he was not spared. Please, oh Hanno, let me see you in the afterlife. I am tired, so tired of only seeing you in my dreams.”

“Step back from the edge, my heart.” His voice came out in a tremble.

“Hanno,” you whispered. “Forgive me for being so weak. Forgive me for failing you. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been nothing but strong.” A ferocity claims his words. “Step back from the edge.”

“We made a promise,” you pleaded. “We go as one. Let me join you, please.”

You raise one foot over the rocky cliff and he lashed out before he could think. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back so hard that the both of you tumbled to the ground. Quickly, Lucius kneeled by your side to search for any injury.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered. This was the afterlife. It must be. You obeyed his command to find those bright blue eyes that haunted your dreams.

“Am I finally dead?”

“Not for a long, long time.”

No, this wasn’t the afterlife. Blood caked his skin and scars littered his bare arms. He had been muscular before but now he appeared to be only thick, corded muscle. Your hands came up to rest on his neck and you examined his face. The same freckles. Same lines by his eyes. Same long eyelashes.

Trailing your hands down along his arms, you skirted around the obvious injuries he had until your fingers brushed something new, something entirely foreign to you that resided on his shoulder.

A brand.

And with that, the dam within you shattered. The wails of a widow finally escaped your chest and you let out an agonized scream as you curled in on yourself. Hanno gathered you into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck. Hot tears slid down his cheeks and onto your skin. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on the armor that still adorned his body and you eventually settled on cradling the back of his head with one hand and grasping his forearm with the other.

“I am so sorry,” he wept. “If I had known you were alive, I would have come for you sooner.” He wrenched the slave plate from your neck and kissed the places where the chain had rubbed your skin raw.

All the agony of grief and rage and terror from the last month spilled out of him in broken, gasping sobs. His precious wife was alive and in his arms. Numidia had fallen, but now he had the chance to protect her with all the power and might of Rome. He could now have armies at his beck and call, coffers of coins brought to him, and enemies assassinated but the true power laid in his arms.

His little wife was right. He was the soldier, the muscle, the physical strength. But the reason he fought and killed, the reason he kept going even when every part of his body screamed to give up, was because of her. As far as he was concerned, she had the power to raze cities and command armies. All she had to do was ask him.

“Is this real?” you breathed once your sobs and trembling ceased. He pulled you into his lap and almost began crying once again at the feel of your supple body against his.

“It’s real,” he assured you before he bent down and kissed you. Despite the blood that coated his skin, you savored the taste of him. You never thought you would get this again. Maybe the gods did bless you.

He kept you pressed against his side as you made your way back into the villa. One of the slaves nearly dropped her tray at the sight before her and ran to grab Lucilla. The stately woman swept into the courtyard and met you both there.

“Lucius,” she exclaimed. “I take it that this is your wife.”

“Yes.” His gaze never strayed from your face. “This is her.”

You instinctively went to bow to Lucilla but she stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“You are not my slave any longer,” she assured you. “Not only did you save my life, but you are now my daughter and also Augusta.”

Hanno, Lucius, you reminded yourself, stood in all his resplendent glory, covered in dirt and blood with his gladius hanging from his sheath. How different the two of you were now, yet still fit like the gods made you for each other. Your small house was gone. Your home was subjugated. Your family and friends in the afterlife. But Lucius was still here and still breathing. That made it all worth it.

He might be the Emperor of Rome now and you, the Empress, but he was still your charming soldier, your devoted husband. This, you decided, would make an excellent story someday.

#hanno x reader #lucius verus x reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #lucius verus #hanno

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melancholickiss · 10 days ago

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splendidfemalelegs · 2 months ago

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Can I help you gorgeous

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bequia3 · 1 year ago

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We Must Risk Delight

I read a lot, usually two or three books at a time. I’m now reading the Collected Poems of Jack Gilbert, The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World by Laura Imai Messina, and The Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett. I’m also rereading Rules of Civility by Amor Towles for book club. Prompted by the poetry of Jack Gilbert, I am finding much needed messages in each book. Our world is in turmoil.…

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#Amor Towles #Ann Patchet #Barbara Kingsolver #delight #Icarus #Jack Gilbert #Laura Imai Messina

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leclercsainzz · 4 months ago

Note

maybe one where Lando is seen with magui so reader one ups him by posting being at the Barcelona game and meeting joao and they soft launch

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE?

PAIRINGS: lando norris x (ex)gf!reader / joao felix x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

WARNING: // mention of cheating

yourusername

liked by landonorris, magui_corceiro and 710,749 others

yourusername: summer break with my luvvv 💗

tagged: @landonorris

view 5,846 comments

iamrebeccad: stunning

↳ yourusername: no, that’s youu <33

user: i waNt this type of summer love 😭

user: i feel so single wtf

alexandrasaintmleux: GORGEOUS 😍

↳ yourusername: says youu

user: LANDO’S NECK iN THE FIFTH SLIDE

user: don’t know if i wanna be her or be with her

user: can lando fight??

↳ user: girl— he can’t even fight for another win

user: obsessed with you omgg 😍

landonorris: my beautiful girl

landonorris: i love you 😘

↳ user: feeling SOOO single rn 😭😭

user: girl, you’re making me feel single:(

user: idk who’s luckier

oscarpiastri: where was my invite? 🤔

↳ yourusername: ??? you literally have him half the year, hello??

↳ oscarpiastri: okay, and?

↳ user: osC 😂

user: lando has won in life

francisca.cgomes: uau sexy 🫦

see translation: wow sexy

↳ yourusername: você

see translation: you

user: i want what they have 😭😭

maxfewtrell: thanks for letting me third wheel, ‘twas delightful

↳ yourusername: no, thank YOU for third wheeling

↳ maxfewtrell: sarcasm or??

user: ask your man if he can fight

user: my parents are so cute 🥰

user: god, you’re soo perfect

user: babe, where is the skirt from?!?? it’s so cute

↳ yourusername: it’s from (stores name)

user: fight me you coward @landonorris

user: the prettiest girl ever 😍

user: future mother to my kids

user: living for the ynlando content >>

user: screw lando, i want her

user: in love with you 😩

user: THE woman that YOU are OMG 😍

sabrinacarpenter: literally soo obsessed with you

sabrinacarpenter: you’re insanely gorgg omg

↳ yourusername: 💗💗💗

user: MOTHER

yourusername

📍lisbon, portugal

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 689,846 others

yourusername: a tia mais legal está de volta à cidade 💃🏻

see translation: the coolest aunt is back in town

view 5,207 comments

user: she’s not a regular aunt, she’s a cool aunt 😎

| liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes: a tía mais sexy 😘

see translation: the sexiest aunt

user: omg luna and mateo are sooo big already 🥺

↳ user: time flys by sooo fast

user: ahhh luna in her barca jersey

yoursister: meus amores 😍

see translation: my loves

user: where’s lando???

user: yn being the coolest aunt ever >>

landonorris: come back, i miss you 🥺

↳ yourusername: i miss you too 💗

↳ carlossainz55: you literally left last night, hello???!?

landonorris: tell mateo (and luna) that i miss them

↳ yourusername: mateo says and i quote, “i miss my uncle lan”

↳ user: “uncle lan” THAT’S SO CUTE WTF 😭😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux: girlfriend, you’re looking cute 😍

user: luna in her barca kit omg 🥺

user: can we talk about how mateo calls lando “uncle lan”

user: @fcbarcelona

user: when she supports barcelona >>

user: @fcbarcelona @pablogavi

user: the gavi jersey omg

carlossainz55: you should buy luna her real madrid jersey now

↳ yourusername: YOU should buy it as her bday gift, bestie

user: now you got me craving ice cream

user: hottest barca player??

user: yn being a barca and mclaren girl is everything to me 😩

↳ yourusername: mclaren? YES! barca?? eh 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ user: wait— you don’t support barca??!?? 😭

user: the worlds best aunt

↳ yourusername: u said it, not me

↳ user: omg 😭 ilyyy

pierregasly: “coolest aunt” that’s a bit of a stretch, no?

↳ yourusername: shut up, gas(leak)

↳ user: LMAO

user: i want yn as my aunt now

user: ugh, you’re so perfect 😍

user: she’s gorgeous and she’s good with kids?? 😭😭

user: let me wife you up, please

user: the prettiest girl ever!

magui_corceiro

liked by landonorris, joaofelix79 and 684,735 others

magui_corceiro: summer love <3

comments have been disabled

lando.jpg

liked by magui_corcerio, yourusername and 472,989 others

lando.jpg: nothing but views ☀️

view 20 comments

magui_corcerio: nothing but cute views

comment has been deleted

maxfewtrell: so this is the reason you ditch me?

maxfewtrell: i wanted to see some beautiful views too 🥺

maxfewtrell: wait a min— who took that last picture?

↳ lando.jpg: there’s a thing called self timer on your iphone, mate

yourusername: cuteeee

comments have been limited

imessage

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 690,985 others

yourusername: girls just wanna have fun 💋

tagged: @francisca.cgomes @alexandrasaintmleux

view 5,107 comments

user: she a baddie, she know she a ten

francisca.cgomes: uau você é sexy, eu entendo por que ela à obcecada por você agora .. eu também;)

see translation: wow you’re sexy, i get why she’s obsessed with you now .. i would too

comment has been deleted

francisca.cgomes: love yaaaaa 😘

user: kIKA, WE SAW THAT COMMENT 👀

↳ user: wait— what comment?!?

↳ user: kika made a comment about magui being obsessed with yn saying “i get it now, i would be obsessed if i were her too”

↳ user: oMG 😭 the fact the she used to be friends with her too

user: so la*ndo and her broke up or???

alexandrasaintmleux: my girls 💘

user: her and joao deserve better

user: thE gaslight shirt! I NEED IT

user: girl— your man is with magui 😭

user: lando FUMBLED

user: please don’t tell me he tried gaslighting you omggg 😭

| liked by yourusername

user: i need her and joao to link up

↳ user: @joaofelix79

↳ user: doesn’t she support barca???

↳ user: her sister does lol

user: kika’s comment 💀

user: lando still being in the likes LMAO

oscarpiastri: his loss

| liked by carlossainz55

↳ user: oscar— omg 🫢

↳ user: cARLOS ALSO LIKED OMG

↳ user: his own teammate AND best friend

↳ user: yk he fucked up bad

carmenmmundt: the prettiest 😍

↳ yourusername: i love yaaa <33

iamrebeccad: bummed i couldn’t make it:(

↳ yourusername: missed you bb

user: yn in her revenge era???

user: no ex, no next, for me its just yn ln 😍

landonorris: call me? please?

↳ user: boy bye 😭

user: SOMEONE GET JOÃO, PLEASE

user: @joaofelix79

user: doesn’t pierre knows joão?? we need him to work his magic

↳ user: @pierregasly

↳ user: you better get to work bitch @pierregasly

↳ user: kika, tell your man to work his magic with joao and yn

user: yn’s so much prettier than magui

user: the audacity lando has to comment AND like 🙄

pierregasly: @joaofelix79

↳ user: oMG— he actually tagged him

lilymhe: he really fumbled a baddie 😩

user: call me magui with the way im obsessed with you

user: yn >> magui

user: i could treat you so much better, babe

yourusername

liked by joaofelix79, yoursister and 698,084 others

yourusername: hot girl summer ft. mateo:)

view 4,648 comments

user: from “summer love with my love” to “hot girl summer” 🥺

user: yn this, yn that WHAT ABOUT MATEO? “uncle lan”???

↳ user: bitch— 😭😭

user: the sixth slide HELp

alexandrasaintmleux: my pretty babyyy 😍

↳ yourusername: love yaaa, girlfriend 💗

↳ charles_leclerc: ABSOLUTELY nOT

user: MATEO WEARING A BARCA JERSEY?!!? 👀

↳ user: its a sign @joaofelix79

user: she’s soooo beautiful omg

francisca.cgomes: hot hot hot

↳ yourusername: besitos 💋

see translation: kisses

iamrebeccad: gorggg 😍

↳ yourusername: ily my loveee 💗

user: men (*cough* lando cough*) really are a disappointment

user: body is giving

user: joao, please, shoot your shot 🙏🏼

lamineyamal: @joaofelix79

comment has been deleted

user: FELIX LIKED OMG

user: she’s hot and she knows it 😩

user: did i just see yamal tag felix and delete it???

user: anyone else see joão liked her post???

↳ user: they follow each other lol

yoursister: 😍😍😍

user: body goals 😩

user: lando really fumbled

user: @joaofelix79 i see you lurking in the likes 👀

user: joao, shoot your shot mf

user: ya’ll are so pressed over a nonexistent relationship 😭

↳ user: literally omg! they don’t even interact w/ each other

↳ user: their exes literally do each other?? i’m sure that by now they know of each other

user: hot girl summer, indeed 😍

user: magui & lando <<<< yn & joão

user: felix liked!!!!

user: i NEED PIERRE TO INTRODUCE THEM NOW

↳ francisca.cgomes: @pierregasly

↳ user: KIKA DOING GODS WORK

user: people are way too obsessed with joao and yn, i swear

user: hottest girl ever 😍

user: beautyyy

user: 10x better than magui

user: biggest fumble ever, mate @landonorris

user: men ain’t shit

user: pretty girl 😘

imessage

yourusername

liked by iamrebeccad, ferrantorres and 701,012 others

yourusername: “visca barça” or whatever ya’ll say 🤷🏻‍♀️

tagged: @yoursister

view 5,751 comments

user: the “where is joao felix” is such a mood lmao

user: yn at a barca game?!??

carlossainz55: te corrompió, eh?

see translation: he corrupted you, huh?

↳ yourusername: hala madrid siempre

see translation: hala madrid always

_ferminlopez: @lamineyamal

user: caRLOS COMMENT AND FERMIN’S?!?? 👀

↳ user: d-did she get invited by joao or??

yoursister: visca barça visca catalunya

user: so? did you find joão??

joaofelix79: apenas admita que você gosta do clube errado

see translation: just admit you like the wrong club

↳ user: are my eyes deceiving me or did he actually comment

pablogavi: la invitada de honor 🤣 @lamineyamal

see translation: the guest of honor

↳ lamineyamal: jajaja

user: she went to support her future hubby 🤭

user: lando found dead in a ditch

user: mateo meeting his new uncle??

user: we got yn supporting barca before gta6

↳ user: don’t forget mclaren

↳ yourusername: oscar? YES! barca still undecisive 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ user: tHe shade 😭 at least she supports oscar

pierregasly: you’re welcome 😉

↳ user: he definitely hooked them up

user: from a formula one wag to a footballer wag

↳ user: my girl is meant for the wag life

user: last slide is sooo me

user: ynfelix nation rise up

user: their exes do each other and now they do each other, cutee

↳ user: OMG— 😭😭 LMFAO

user: ynfelix >>

francisca.cgomes: 😏

user: yn in her barca era??

user: magui and lando currently crying together after realizing they brought their exes together 🤣

↳ user: the only good thing that has happened in this situation tbf

yourusername

📍miami

liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 620,108 others

yourusername: 🌴 miami vibes

view 4,875 comments

madelyncline: hot

user: mother???

user: yn really enjoying that single life, huh?

francisca.cgomes: mamacitaaa 😮‍💨

user: lando fumbled the baddest bitch frfrr

lilyzneimer: wow, she’s hot 😍

↳ yourusername: ilyyy bby <33

user: que tal besos de joão?

see translation: what about kisses from joão?

iamrebeccad: obsessed with you, oh my god 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: how about you give me kisses instead?

user: motHERRRRR 😩

joaofelix79: boas vibrações

see translation: nice vibes

↳ pedri: míralo @pablogavi

see translation: look at him

user: so are her and felix dating or???

flavy.barla: pretty girl with pretty views

↳ yourusername: mwahhh 😘

user: yn, give me one chance

user: shes bringing sexy back

user: mother living her best life

carmenmmundt: gorgg 😍

user: FELIX LIKING AND COMMENTING SNAOFBF

sabrinacarpenter: your vibe AND aesthetic is everything

user: hot girl summer belongs to yn

user: gimme a chance 🙏🏼

user: lando liked 😭

user: you’re so hot

user: my dream is to be pretty like her

kellypiquet: 😍 beautiful as always!

user: the most gorgeous woman ever

user: magui just like me— OBSESSED W U 😩

kendalljenner: woahh 😍

user: @landornorris

user: im so obsessed with you, i cant

↳ user: magui?!?!??

joaofelix79

liked by rubendias, yoursister and 687,894 others

joaofelix79: 🌴

view 4,730 comments

user: are you in miami?!??

user: wait— yn is miami, no?!?

user: how do ya’ll know he’s in miami?

↳ user: girl— 😭 bffr

pablogavi: hola guapo 😘

see translation: hello handsome

user: YN’s siSter liked

yourusername: flokiii 🥺

↳ user: she’s met his dog omg

user: they’re together 😭😭

user: he’s sooo good looking

user: yn, i get it 😩

pierregasly: mhm 😏

↳ user: what do you know?!??

↳ user: normalize explaining after YOU comment

user: MY MAN MY MAN 😍

user: his post aligns with yn

lamineyamal: parece tan feliz, no? 🤔 @pedri

see translation: he seems so happy, no?

↳ pedri: 😉

user: the comments from pierre and his teammates pretty much confirm they are together

_ferminlopez: guapísimo

see translation: very handsome

user: is yn with you?

user: are you with yn?

user: this screams yn

user: did yn take these?

user: he’s so hot 😮‍💨

user: you better treat yn well

user: the person who took these must be a pro and good looking

| liked by joaofelix79

↳ user: hELP— he liked my comment

↳ user: which could mean nothing

user: he’s fine and he knows it

hugofelix18: não, claro, mostr que você está se divertindo

see translation: no, of course it seems like you’re having a good time

imessage

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, pedri and 688,884 others

yourusername: sunday night kind of loveee 💘

view 4,638 comments

francisca.cgomes: ahh, love you both

user: JOÃO OR??!!?!?

pedri: se ganó a la chica 🤣 @pablogavi

see translation: he won the girl

comment has been deleted

user: “you’re literally all i want” same joão same

user: i just know lando AND magui are FUMING

user: babes, is it who we think it is? 🤔

user: i swEAR THAT’s feLix’s hands 😭

↳ user: 100%

alexandrasaintmleux: my loveee 😘

pablogavi: que manos tan bonitas

see translation: what beautiful hands

| liked by yourusername

user: gavi’s comment confirms it joao 😭

user: imagine being called “my pretty girl” by him

↳ user: imagine being yn and being called tHat 😩

user: oooh to be yn ln

↳ user: ooh to be joão felix

user: lando fumbled the baddest bitch 😞

user: my girl deserves being treated like the queen she is

| liked by yourusername

user: real ones know that’s literally joão omggg 😭😭

user: yn about to be the best footballer wag

pierregasly: i know who it is 🙂‍↕️

↳ user: we ALL know who it is;)

carlossainz55: ya era tiempo

see translation: it was about time

oscarpiastri: he better treat you right or else 😡

↳ yourusername: you wouldn’t even hurt a fly 🤨

joaofelix79: nada mal eh?

see translation: not too bad huh?

comments have been limited

joaofelix79

liked by _ferminlopez, oscarpiastri and 701,027 others

joaofelix79: soft launch, i think? 🫢

view 6,637 comments

user: the “i think?” is taking me out idk why 😭

user: YN?!?!?

user: he’s literally wearing the same sweater bansns

_ferminlopez: vas a tiempo de borrar 🤣

see translation: you’re on time to delete

↳ lamineyamal: le hackearon el móvil

see translation: his phone was hacked

user: lando fumbled the baddest bitch but joão pulled her

user: “soft launch” we all know its yn

user: PARENTS OMG 😍

user: idk if i want to be yn or be him

yourusername: linda tu novia

see translation: your girlfriend is beautiful

↳ joaofelix: lo se

see translation: i know

user: at least he didn’t get back with magui 😭

user: mom and dad frr

pedri: guapo

see translation: handsome

user: lando found dead in a ditch

↳ user: and magui 😌

comments have been limited

yourusername

liked by joaofelix79, yoursister and 689,989 others

yourusername: cats out the bag <33

tagged: joaofelix79

comments have been disabled

2K notes · View notes

astonmartingf · 5 months ago

Text

GOOD RIDDANCE OP! ; CS55

carlos sainz x aston martin fan!reader . . . after breaking up with your stupid boyfriend your number one idol hooks you up on a date with one of his "sons" which is a driver from the same team your ex boyfriend likes

amgf i'm back to my roots!!! carlos sainz fics 😛 y'know some amgf lore is that carlos was the first driver i knew other than lewis but he's everywhere atp i think everyone knows him and i saw clips of him talking about alonso that i looked him up and saw him and look at me now, insane. maybe this is a little too self indulgent but what can i say, i cater to myself first when writing so... enjoy pwahahahahahaha because i had fun writing this 😋👍

yourusername uploaded a new story

[i might actually pass out, someone call the doctor rq!!!! what is actually happening]

yourusername

liked by astonmartinf1, fernandoalo_oficial, and 26,941 others

yourusername uhm welcome to spa?

view 7,752 comments

user32 yooooo you're in spa what the heck????

user50 if i had tweeted something like that would i have been invited to a race instead?

user38 con 😭 gra 😭 tu 😭 la 😭 tions 😭

user93 imagine breaking up with boyfriend because of fernando alonso and then going to the race with fernando alonso

user05 SLAYYYY BABES!!!!!!

user17 i know exboyf is fuming //////

comment is liked by the user

user48 oh to be invited by your favorite driver 🥹🥹🥹🥹

user72 @/charlesleclerc my ex boyfriend broke up with me because i've been a fan of you can i get tickets to see you 😭🤲🤲

→ charlesleclerc HAHAHAHAHA send the team your details, we'll find a way

user49 not this being a new way to get tickets 😭

user64 trendsetter yn!!! but also deserve because he actually a pos and good riddance to him

comment is liked by user

yourusername uploaded a new story

[i know a spot he says... 10/10 for the tacos but 100/100 for the company <3]

f1wagscentral

f1wagscentral A new wag in the making? Following the viral tweet of a Fernando Alonso fan, YN LN took F1 fans in a storm with her story time about her ex-boyfriend breaking up with her because of the 2-time World Champion.

In recent news a fan tweeted to YN asking for updates about the date set up by her idol, who confirmed that things are indeed going smoothly which delighted the matchmaker, revealing he knew about their plans.

Fans deduct two drivers in the grid who could be a potential partner for YN which are Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz, with YN's instagram account privated, little information is known. Who are you rooting for, team 🌶️ or 🧡?

view 980 comments

yourusername 🔒

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, carlossainz55, and 5 others

yourusername i have a life outside being a fernando alonso fan 🤞

view 25 comments

carlossainz55 i always knew i was the other man in our relationship

→ yourusername i'm glad you know how important fernando alonso is to me ❤️

→ yourusername especially because i hate your team, fuck ferrari thank god you're moving to williams

→ carlossainz55 is that why you haven't soft launched me yet?

→ yourusername you mean hard launch?

→ carlossainz55 WAIT.... is that really the reason???? amor?????

→ yourusername i'm joking stop spamming my messages, wth

→ carlossainz55 don't joke with me amor

→ yourusername it may or may not be the reason.....

→ carlossainz55 how could i have missed it 🙄 not surprised, we both know how much you hate ferrari, nonetheless glad you took the chance

→ yourusername and if i told you i dated you to make my ex boyfriend jealous?

→ carlossainz55 well you love me don't you?

→ yourusername i think that's entry level babes, ofc i love you so much 😘

→ carlossainz55 i'm sure your love is enough to make him jealous, his loss and a win for me 😛

→ yourusername wow you're so cute, come home faster now 😠

→ carlossainz55 aye aye boss 🫡

→ yourusername we can watch fernando alonso clips right?

→ carlossainz55 whatever you want amor 😘

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine

2K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 2 months ago

Text

spoiled rotten (3) II a.putellas

part of the spoiled rotten universe spoiled rotten (3) II a.putellas

"alexia? baby you do know she is not going to disappear if you take your eyes off of her for five seconds." you teased quietly, poking your head into your daughters room and finding your girlfriend sat in the feeding chair watching the eight month old like a hawk.

"sh! amor you will wake her." your girlfriend warned with a frown, face softening at the eyebrow raised her way as you carefully padded into the room, sitting down on her lap as her arms wound their way around your waist.

an apologetic kiss was pressed to your shoulder as you joined the blonde in staring adoringly at the tiny bundle of pink skin and ringlets of dark brown hair, swaddled tightly in a cream colored blanket.

"she is so tiny." you exhaled with a soft smile, alexia's chin finding home on your shoulder with a hum of agreement. you weren't sure how long the two of you sat there for, alexia holding you tightly as you relaxed into the welcoming warmth of her embrace.

this little habit of hers wasn't anything new, and these days any time you couldn't find the footballer all it took was a few steps into your daughters room and there she'd be, staring at her with a fierce love in her eyes you'd never seen before the birth of amalia.

to the pair of you and your inner circle of loved ones you called her lia, much to the thrilled delight of your niece layla who was convinced that lia was as close to her own name as you could get which must mean amalia was named after her.

your sister discouraged the thought but neither you or alexia minded, lala and lia, both of their nicknames within the family, seemed an adorable pairing and your heart swelled whenever you watched how patient and gentle the usually bubbly and hyperactive eight year old was with your daughter.

the first time layla had held lia you were so overcome with hormones and emotions you needed to leave the room in tears, ingrid hurrying after you as mapi was too busy chewing your girlfriends ear off about how that must mean you wanted another baby.

as much as alexia adored amalia you didn't miss the way her face paled anytime a second baby was mentioned and found it endlessly amusing to tease her about just getting the baby stage out of the way with another one at the same time.

alexia would laugh nervously and you'd grin, kissing away her awkward smile and assuring you were only teasing. you knew one little baby for the pair of you to stress and worry over was enough for the time being.

and it wasn't a lie.

stress and worry went hand in hand when it came to you and alexia trying to work out how to navigate parenthood for the first time, overwhelmed with tips and wives tales and stories and tricks from both of your entire families.

the first month of amalia's life was chaotic to say the least.

your own mother flew over from england to be there for the birth to support you, eli insisting she stay with her and suddenly the date of her return flight home was pushed further and further away.

then between the pair of them for those first four weeks neither you or your girlfriend seemed to have a minute alone with your own daughter.

both older women seemed to spend every spare second they could hovering and cuddling and kissing and fussing and cooing over the tiny infant, and at first it was helpful, then it very quickly grew to be painful.

it felt as if nothing you or alexia did was right. you'd change lias diaper, one of them would swoop in and redo it, assuring you their way was better.

alexia would try to swaddle her before bed, just like the both you had learned in prenatal classes and practiced for months leading up to the birth.

but it never seemed to be tight enough or right enough for either of your mothers, who would again just redo it with an unintentionally condescending click of the tongue.

your own attempts to softly urge them back to their own homes and your mother back to england were dismissed with a wave of their hands assuring it was absolutely fine and no trouble at all.

and you were sure it wasn't trouble for them, however it was becoming unbearable for yourself and alexia, the once perfectly spacious apartment you shared feeling suffocatingly small with two more overbearing and uninvited tenants.

eventually, when your softer approach hadn't worked alexia had stepped in and put her foot down firmly with the pair of them. the blonde wouldn't take no for an answer, practically pushing both women out and deadlocking the door, the two of you sharing a smile and then bursting out into laughter at the much welcome silence.

though both you and your girlfriend were fiercely fiercely protective of amalia, alexia was particularly strict when it came to introducing her to new people.

or more specifically, introducing her formally to the rest of the barcelona squad bar amalias godparents who'd all but charged your door down a few days after you brought her home, mapi threatening to kick it in if you didn't let her and ingrid inside.

you knew the rest of the girls had been begging alexia to meet amalia, mainly because that begging was done through you knowing that bar your daughter you were the only other person able to melt the stern faced captain like butter.

so almost three months after she was born, alexia finally agreed to let you bring amalia to the training centre, both of you already in agreement that a football match was no place for a newborn, both you and amalia watching most of alexia's games at home on tv.

most weekends eli or alba would offer to babysit so you could go and watch in person, though it took a lot to convince either of you to leave your daughter alone with someone who wasn't you or alexia.

but leaving amalia with family was a little easier, and your own family spent a lot of time flying back and forth between england and spain to visit as well, though you think a lot of that you could thank alexia for as the girl knew sometimes you grew homesick and would encourage the invitation.

many times she'd tried to organise for the three of you to go back to england, but you were firm on your stance you wanted amalia to get a little older before putting her through the stress of a flight and a holiday.

you smiled in amusement as you caught sight of your girlfriend waiting for you by the gate, pulling open the car door before you'd even stopped properly and sliding into the back beside amalia's carseat.

you cleared your throat as your daughter was showered with kisses and you were not, alexia smiling guiltily and leaning forward over the console to greet you as well, apologizing softly against your lips.

"should we take the stroller?" you asked after you'd parked, amalia bundled up in alexia's arms in a little barcelona onesie, and seeing the way your girlfriends face lit up at the sight of it melted your heart.

"no, they will all want to hold her anyway." alexia rolled her eyes and you chuckled, locking the car and clicking your tongue at the girl who grabbed the baby bag off of you.

"cariño i can carry something!" you insisted as the midfielder shook her head, shutting up your protests with a kiss as the pair of you made your way through the carpark toward the elevator.

"oh did someone have a good nap today princesa? tan soñoliento!" alexia cooed, bouncing lia with a soft smile as you leaned your head on the taller girls shoulder, both of you watching as she started to wake up a little more.

with lia sleeping about 14-16 hours a day ideally, there were slim windows when you could take her out and about, and her little puffy face after she'd just woken up never failed to melt both you and alexia.

it was safe to say that despite the firm boundaries you'd put in with your girlfriend not spoiling your niece, all of that went out the window when it came to your daughter, both you and alexia buying anything and everything for the tiny brunette.

"sí that is your mami's nose!" you laughed as lia grabbed at alexia's face, blowing a spit bubble as alexia blew a raspberry on her cheek and she gave a gummy smile.

"su pelo crece tan rápido!" the blonde marveled, twirling a small ringlet of hair wide eyed as lia babbled and grabbed her nose again, the elevator stopping at the right floor and you hummed.

everyday without fail one of you point out the inevitable fact that your daughter was changing. if it be her hair was thicker, a new freckle appeared, an item of clothing seemed marginally tighter.

and there was nothing either of you found more overwhelmingly beautiful than baring witness to the tiny human being you'd both created growing up before your very eyes.

you'd both been making an effort to speak english and spanish around her as much as possible, wanting her to grow up able to speak both despite the fact she'd be living in spain, but england was still home for you and alexia wanted that for amalia as well.

"amor maybe it is too soon." alexia stopped suddenly, a few feet from the closed changing room door with nerves painted clearly into her features, eyebrows furrowed into a frown of uncertainty.

"hey, ale. baby." you nudged her shoulder as her eyes dropped down toward you. "lia brings us so much joy, it would be mean not to share that with everyone else. you know they will be careful and gentle, but they will also be very very excited!" you smiled reassuringly as your girlfriend nodded, still seemingly hesitant.

"give her to me. you can go in first, make sure everything is fine and we will come in once you're happy. okay?" your hand tenderly caressed her cheek as again the blonde nodded, pressing an appreciative soft kiss to your lips and slipping amalia into your awaiting arms.

"well if it is not my favorite little god daughter!" you were pulled from your thoughts at the voice behind you, turning to see ingrid walking toward you, her ankle taped up.

"i just rolled it during training. it is nothing too bad!" she assured watching your face crease with concern as you noticed, cooing her hello's at amalia as she gave you a side hug careful not to bump her.

"so you have been taken off of house arrest?" the norweigan grinned making you laugh, ingrid poking at your daughters feet and beaming at the little giggles which she was rewarded with.

"mm she is probably in there making them all wash their hands five times and form an orderly line." you chuckled knowing your girlfriend all too well, the girl in question poking her head out of the change rooms and calling your name.

"oye! cata no you put that down!" she darted right back inside with a yell making both you and ingrid share a look and grin. you heard chatter as ingrid pushed open the door for you, but everything fell silent as you and amalia stepped inside, many pairs of eyes trained on the two of you.

then suddenly it erupted, everyone cooing and fussing and crowding around you, ignoring your girlfriend trying to boss them all back into line and yelling at them to be quiet, basically talking to the walls as not a soul was listening to a word she said.

glancing over to her you very carefully handed amalia over to frido, mapi and ingrid both assuring you they would keep a close eye over their goddaughter as you gently pushed your way out of the crowd.

"hola grumpy." you teased at your girlfriend sat on the bench with a face like thunder, eyes still sharply trained to your daughter but they flickered to you as her lip curled downward into a slight pout and you took a seat next to her.

"te dije que estarían emocionados." you reminded softly, alexia just crossing her arms over her chest, watching as your daughter was passed around and marveled over, mapi staying right by her side the entire time.

"like the lion king." you joked quietly bumping your hip into the footballers, both of you having watched the movie in question easily a hundred times over the years given it was your niece layla's all time favourite.

"if any of them lifts her up like that-" alexia began to stand as you tugged on the back of her training top sending her back down onto the bench.

"they won't. look, mapi is right with her and you know she would not let anybody harm a single hair on amalia's head. remember the cafe?" you reminded as alexia pulled a face.

it had been one of the first times you'd taken lia out in public since she was born, you and alexia meeting mapi and ingrid for breakfast not far from your apartment.

everything had been going well and after lots of cuddles from her godmothers lia was soundly asleep in her stroller which was safely tucked in between you and alexia.

it had all happened in seconds.

there had been two young boys riding skateboards, not watching where they were going they'd gone flying past and almost knocked a poor waitress over who accidentally spilled a coffee all over you, a few drops landing on amalia and the noise of everything jolting her awake, her cries sounding loudly as alexia scooped her up.

before anyone could even speak mapi was up and on her feet, charging over toward the boys and yelling at them in spanish so fast even you and ingrid struggled to understand what was being said.

you assured the waitress over and over it wasn't her fault, the horrified young girl in tears as ingrid stood up to collect her girlfriend who was still telling off the boys who'd gone ghost white in embarrassment, backed against a wall as the footballer yelled at them.

you stomped on your own girlfriends foot and send her a harsh look, nodding toward the poor girl still with tears in her eyes as alexia sighed and gently assured her it was fine, and that it had just spooked your daughter but she was entirely unharmed.

"i do not think those boys will ever touch a skateboard again." alexia hummed at the memory, the ghost of a smile on her lips as her arms uncrossed, one draping across your shoulders as your hand rested on her knee.

"look at her mi amor, she is so so loved, surrounded by her tías."

neither of you were surprised that after such a big day of meeting people amalia was barely able to keep her eyes open when you got home, the pair of you taking turns to try and keep her awake for at least another hour as if she fell asleep now she'd be up around two in the morning.

"-and bebita do you know why your mama and i love each other so much?" you paused by the door to your daughters room, melting at the sight of alexia laid down on the floor with amalia sat up on her chest, supported by your girlfriends strong hands.

"because of you! nuestro amorcita. together with our love we gave each other you, and we love you bebita! muy muy muy muy mucho." alexia cooed softly, kissing your daughters little hands as she squealed.

"the most perfect little girl in the world." you agreed, alexia looking up with a lovesick smile as you entered the room, laying down beside her as your girlfriend bounced amalia up and down on her chest.

"it really suits you, being a mami." you complimented, kissing your girlfriends cheek and watching as a slight blush crept up her neck, relishing in the fact you pulled this more shy and softer side out of her.

"does this mean you want to call me mami too?" the blonde gave you a wolfish grin, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you rolled your eyes.

"do you smell that?" you sniffed the air, alexia frowning and pulling amalia a little closer, smelling her clean diaper. "not the bebita." the catalan shook her head, clearly confused.

"oh! no, lo siento it is the smell of your shitty flirting." you warned and hit her shoulder, amalia giggling and blowing a spit bubble.

"oh do you think that is funny lia?" you cooed, flicking alexia's ear as again amalia giggled. "your silly mami thinks she is so funny too!" you harshly pinched alexias cheek as she whined and amalia gave a gummy smile, smacking her hands down on your girlfriends chest.

"ya me están atacando." the blonde mumbled with a pout that you leaned over and softly kissed away. "mmm get used to it putellas." you teased with a wink, turning your shared attention back to your daughter.

you smiled and waved, alexia using amalia's little hand to wave back as she stood in the pool, your daughter safely in her arms as the instructor called out they were about to begin.

"so she has no idea?" alba asked quietly beside you as you shook your head, a grin of delight on your face making the younger girl chuckle. "oh she is going to kill you chica." alba mused with a shake of her head and a smile on her lips.

"eres mujer muerta." "mm maybe, worth it though." you winked, both you and alba waving wildly at amalia as alexia moved into the circle of other mothers.

you'd both been in agreement you wanted amalia to learn how to swim as soon as possible, given that you and alexia loved the beach and she did too, and you hoped growing up your daughter would continue a love for the water.

normally you would be the one to take amalia to the mami and me swimming lessons due to alexia's training schedule, but feeling an enormous sense of fomo alexia had made an arrangement with the club to finish early every second tuesday so the pair of you could take turns.

skin to skin contact was so important while amalia was little and even if she wouldn't directly admit it you knew alexia had deep seeded insecurities about not spending enough time with her in that way.

she'd floated the idea of having less commitments, but you knew football meant the world to her in a different way and she was years off retiring, and you'd support her in anyway possible.

so compromise was key, and you did everything you could to assure she had every single opportunity to bond with your daughter, never taking for granted that you had it easier with being home with her most days.

"-and now we will sing the swimming song!" you and alba stopped your conversation at that announcement, grinning at each other and watching your girlfriends face drop.

"it has been nice knowing you, i will make sure lia grows up knowing her mama loved her." alba sighed squeezing your knee as you laughed and shoved the younger girl, alexia shooting you a beyond murderous look as the backing track started.

"today we go swim! today we go swim! what do we need? before we get in! what do we need? before we get in!" the instructor sang, clapping along to the beat as all the other women in the pool bounced their babies and sang along.

"our shoes come off! our shoes come off! we put our swim cap on! our swim cap on!" the song continued as you and alba clapped along, the younger putellas recording on her phone as your girlfriend was beet red, merely mumbling the words as the song repeated itself.

"lia's mami we can't hear you!" the instructor cooed and you collapsed into alba covering your mouth as your girlfriend was put on the spot, the other mothers turning to look at her as alba grinned and zoomed in.

"eh our shoes come off! our shoes come off! swim cap on! swim cap on!" alexia sang loudly but very off key, cheeks as bright red as the crest of the barcelona towel sat at your feet awaiting its use later on, you and alba near choking at trying to contain your laughter as the instructor turned and cleared her throat with an unimpressed look your way.

"and now the dance break! bounce your bebitas chicas, bounce them and dance with them!" the instructor called out as alexia's ears went bright red watching everyone take turns one by one to dance in the middle of the circle, how was this considered a swimming lesson?

you'd not seen your girlfriend look as relieved as she did when the song finally finished, not even after the final whistle at a champions league final and you thought just maybe she'd have rather had a million and one eyes on her to take a penalty than the fifteen or so women mulling around the pool.

"hola sexy!" you whistled with a wink as a soaking wet alexia made her way out of the pool and toward you, alba having left already picked up by a friend for a dinner date.

you bit back your grin as your girlfriend stayed silent, shooting you a filthy look and snatching the towel offered her way, stomping off toward the showers to dry and change amalia as you sent a text to her sister asking for the videos she'd taken.

around fifteen minutes later alexia returned, changed into a pair of shorts and a hoodie, hair damp and pushed to one side of her head with amalia wrapped up in a little hooded giraffe towel your sister had gifted you when she was born.

"no." the girl grunted as you cooed at how utterly adorable your daughter looked, trying to take her off the footballer who scowled at you and stomped off out of the pool, making you chuckle as you quickly followed after her.

stopping to pay for the lesson by the time you got to the car amalia was already buckled in, alexia tickling her stomach with a sickeningly soft smile at the little giggles it rewarded her with.

however as you arrived the scowl returned to her features as she closed the door and slid into the drivers seat. but as you tried to do the same you frowned when the door was locked, trying to pull it open with a grunt.

"alexia! mi amor open the door." you tapped on the window with a laugh of realisation that she'd locked you out, raising an eyebrow at her behaviour.

"baby come on, let me in por favor." you asked with a smile, the blondes gaze remaining firmly forward not even sparing you a look. "okay! well i gave you the chance." you sighed, clearing your throat and stepping back a little from the car.

"today we go swim! today we go swim!" you started to sing very loudly, alexia's head whipping toward you with wide eyes, your arms gesturing up to the sky as a few people around in the carpark looked at you like you were crazy.

"what do we need? before we get in? a dance break!" you announced, wiggling and moving your body around like a madwoman as alexia's eyebrows shot up so fast they almost hit the roof of the car.

"aye dios mio, get in tonta!" alexia reached over to unlock and open the door, stretching out to hook a finger through the belt loop of your jean shorts and yank you down into the car.

you could barely contain your laughter at the sheer horror on her face as you closed your door, grabbing onto the seats as she sped off out of the carpark and you hurried to click your seat belt in.

"stop laughing at her mija, you will encourage her!" alexia huffed, turning around to give your daughter a playful glare as she continued to clap and giggle at the way you continued to dance in your seat.

"mama is a terrible dancer."

"cariño are you really going to be all pouty and grumpy all afternoon?" you laughed, returning to the bedroom after getting amalia down for her last nap of the day before bed, finding alexia tucked under the covers with a sour look on her face.

her plans to go for a run had been squished by the sky opening, the rain torrential outside as water drops splattered angrily against the window panes of your apartment.

"aleee." you cooed, crawling on top of her and sitting yourself down on her lap, the girl looking right through you with a straight face. "venga mi amor you cannot stay mad at me." you grinned, thumbs stroking over her eyebrows and trying to tug them out of the steel frown they were curved into.

"alexiaaa, vamos. smile!" your thumbs moved to try and squish her mouth into a smile, her eyes finally finding yours with an evil look. "you will get wrinkles if you frown too much abuela." you teased, her mouth forming a small o.

"no! ale!" you laughed as she tried to shove you off, wrestling with her to stay on top as your arms locked around her neck. "abuela! wrinkles!" the catalan scoffed repeatedly, a noise of surprise leaving your mouth as suddenly she flipped the two of you.

"you did not tell me there was singing!" your girlfriend huffed, pinning you down to the bed with another scowl as you smiled up at her. "you did not ask." you wiggled a hand free and poked at her nose as the footballer groaned dramatically and flopped down on top of you.

"alba is going to show everyone those videos." her words were muffled against your skin as her head tucked its way into your neck and she felt your body vibrate with amusement beneath her, arms slipping up the back of her shirt and nails scratching at her back.

"sí, and they will see what a good mami you are amor, spending quality time with our daughter and teaching her how to swim." you assured gently, alexias head shooting up and frowning down at you.

"swimming! there was no swimming princesa! only singing, and floating, and dancing and ugh, humillación." she flopped back down making you laugh at her dramatics.

"she is not even half a year old baby, surely you did not expect her to be doing laps?" you teased, squirming at her fingers which pinched at your side, rolling off of you slightly as you ducked your head and pecked her lips repeatedly.

"is this your way of saying sorry?" "no, it was worth it to see how red your little cheeks went in embarrassment. but i think we need to work on your dancing for next time!" you teased, squealing at her cold fingers which poked at your side.

"no no no ale please!" you tried to dart away, her hand catching the back of your shorts and yanking you back down onto the bed. "say sorry!" your girlfriend demanded, sitting on top of you as you squirmed and begged for her to stop, fingers tickling at your side and your shirt half over your face as you tried to wiggle down the bed to get away.

"i'm sorry!" you gave in with a breathy laugh, alexia's frown now gone and replaced with the same stupid lovesick grin mapi was always teasing her for having when she was around you.

"dilo en español." your girlfriend smirked, digging a finger beneath your armpit as your face went bright red and your stomach ached. "lo siento!" you managed out, exhaling and trying to catch your breath as finally she stopped, sliding off of you as you halfheartedly smacked her and she sighed, head tucking into your neck again as she pulled you close.

"amor i think the worst part is i am going to have that stupid song stuck in my head for weeks!"

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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