#tuscany impressions

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[seokgyuu]

The Sweetest Thing - Teaser

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic

Word Count: 5.7k (so far)

Release Date: August 8th

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

header credit @wongyuseokie <3

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - Series Master List

Completed

Plot :Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Blood and violence, a brief SA, explicit smut (not the SA). No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany? Ancient Rome typical attitudes to slavery and women.

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Volterra

Volterra (Etruscan name: Velathri, Roman: Volaterrae), located in the northern part of Tuscany, Italy, was an important Etruscan settlement between the 7th and 2nd century BCE. After its destruction by the Romans in the 1st century BCE it became a modest town with the prosperity of its ruling elite into the early imperial period attested by the prodigious number of finely carved alabaster funerary urns in its many rock-cut tombs.

Early Settlement

Settlement on the high sandstone plateau of Volterra began from at least the 10th century BCE. Iron Age peoples of the Villanovan culture, a precursor to the Etruscans, no doubt selected the site for its ease of defence. The site prospered due to the fertile agricultural lands in its territory across the Cecina valley and its rich mineral deposits. Although finds are not as impressive as the coastal Villanovan sites, evidence of a wider trade is found in such foreign imports as Sardinian bronze goods.

Continue reading...

[growingstories]

Side business

Gianni, a 23-year-old marketeer that recently graduated, landed a job as a junior press officer at a prestigious Italian fashion brand. As he embarked on his exciting new career, he began sharing his adventures on social media. His Instagram account quickly gained popularity, attracting an audience of over 50,000 followers.

His boss discovered Gianni's growing online influence and recognized its potential. Impressed by his ability to engage with an audience, Gianni was promoted to a senior position within the company. His boss even suggested a plan for Gianni to collaborate with other influencers and showcase outfits before they hit the stores. This strategy greatly boosted the brand's sales and left everyone involved thrilled with the results.

Gianni's online presence caught the attention of travel brands, who saw a perfect opportunity to collaborate with him. Combining his passion for travel with his current job seemed like a dream come true. Eventually, Gianni was offered a different position that allowed him to travel the world as a brand ambassador and head of social media. This proved to be a tremendous success, as he earned money by partnering with other brands and posting about their products. His healthy lifestyle and fitness journey also made him a sought-after expert, leading to features in renowned publications like Vogue, Vanity Fair, and G.Q Gianni's popularity continued to rise, and he enjoyed the luxury of a lavish lifestyle, complete with a glamorous personal trainer, Francesco. Francesco drives a Porsche and loves fancy watches.

For many years, Gianni thrived, giving Ted talks and attending exclusive parties, collaborating with numerous companies and earning substantial amounts of money. He even purchased a grand house in Tuscany and shared the renovation process online, engaging his followers with step-by-step updates and showcasing furniture brands.

Eventually, Gianni decided to leave his day job and focus solely on endorsement deals. He started offering online courses, recording podcasts from his home studio, and hosting, pay exclusive-per-view live Q&A sessions for his subscribers. While Gianni received many tempting offers of a sexual nature, he always declined. However, one evening, after consuming a few drinks, he engaged in a private, sexually explicit Q&A session with a follower named Franco89. This opened the door to more explicit conversations and eventually led Gianni to create a secret OnlyFans account. There, he redirected fans who desired sexually oriented content, including Franco89.

FitFrank, who Gianni initially didn't recognize, messaged him one day. Their conversations quickly evolved, and they eventually engaged in virtual intimate encounters. Although Gianni had his reservations, FitFrank eventually persuaded him to participate in paid jerk-off sessions, which they conducted weekly.

Amidst his immense success, Gianni received fan mail, flowers, and outfits from well-known brands. Due to his excellent physique, he could easily request any outfit he desired. One day, he found a box of cupcakes and received message a from FitFrank insinuating that he knew about the cupcakes. Initially Gianni dismissed, it, assuming it was a coincidence. However, after tasting and enjoying the cupcakes during one of his live sessions, FitFrank sent him a message, revealing that he was aware of Gianni’s indulgence. Intrigued, Gianni engaged in a conversation with FitFrank, who made an unusual offer: €100 for each cupcake Gianni ate during a live session. Although Gianni hesitated at first, FitFrank increased the offer to €1000 for two live eating sessions per month. Succumbing to the allure of the lucrative deal, Gianni agreed to indulge himself weekly.

Gianni's popularity continued to soar, and endorsement offers poured in, particularly for swimwear. Whenever he posted about a particular brand, it sold out immediately. His fit body, dedication to fitness, and healthy eating habits had transformed him into a lifestyle specialist, attracting media attention from magazines such as Vogue, Vanity Fair, and GQ.

However, as Gianni's workload increased, he found less time for travel and decided to reduce his trips. Instead, he focused on providing online courses and hosting events exclusively in Italy. He also introduced paid subscriptions for his live Q&A sessions, further boosting his income.

Despite his success, Gianni couldn't help but notice his clothes becoming tighter. Concerned about his appearance, he decided to end his deal with FitFrank and ignored his messages. However, FitFrank responded by sending cupcakes every morning, tempting Gianni to continue their arrangement. Eventually, FitFrank offered even more money, €1000 per cake. Gianni decided to extend the deal for one more month.

The cakes became larger and more challenging to consume, but Gianni managed to complete each one. FitFrank saw Gianni's dedication and increased the offer to €5000 per month after the last cake. Although the cakes grew in size, Gianni determination remained unwavering.

Despite his success, Gianni's lifestyle began to take a toll on his physique. Personal trainer Francesco expressed concern and suggested a diet to help Gianni lose weight. Francesco feared that having a visibly overweight ambassador would harm his own reputation. Gianni understood the need for change and revealed his to followers that he had gained weight during a renovation project. He created a weight loss program with Francesco for his fans, which received a positive response during the pre-sale phase.

However, Gianni's weight gain continued, exacerbated by his ongoing indulgence in FitFrank's cakes and cupcakes. Francesco confronted Gianni during a live session, shocked by his additional weight gain. Promising to do better, Gianni continued his collaboration with Francesco, now paying for the fitness program.

After two weeks, Gianni realized that his efforts were futile, and he had only gained more weight. Francesco, furious with Gianni's lack of progress, demanded that he publicly announce the end of their collaboration or face legal consequences. Gianni reluctantly complied, confessing to his followers that he was too weak to continue the program. He stepped on the scale and broke down in tears at realization that he the had gained a significant amount of weight.

Confused and desperate, Gianni questioned why he had continued the eating sessions despite having no financial need. Was it simply for attention? FitFrank, aware of Gianni's struggles, initiated a deep conversation that evening, forming a strong connection between them.

As Gianni's weight continued to increase due to FitFrank's challenges and his own overulindgence, he embarked on a four-week, all-inclusive trip to various resorts. The luxurious accommodations offered exquisite indulgences, leaving little time for exercise and fitness. He found himself in a predicament when thewear swim brands he had collaborated with realized his significant weight gain, causing them to distance themselves from him. Gianni grew about anxious his future and impact the his weight gain would have on his career.

During this uncertain time, FitFrank remained a constant presence, sending messages and offering support. Feeling a sense of care and connection, Gianni appreciated FitFrank's attention. They grew closer, building a relationship that felt as though they had known each other for years.

 To salvage his career, Gianni had to lose weight, but the temptation of indulgent food and alcohol endorsements made it difficult to stick to his diet. In a desperate move, he accepted a deal with a champagne brand to become their brand ambassador for a year. This involved a week-long trip to a champagne mansion to sample the entire range and create content. The trip consisted of lavish tastings and extravagant meals, leaving Gianni hungover and on the brink of failure. He returned home feeling exhausted and defeated.

Gianni's weight became a source of worry, both for himself and the brands he had collaborated with. FitFrank continued to send him chocolates, and Gianni, feeling discouraged, started eating them. When FitFrank reached out, Gianni confessed his struggles, and their conversation became progressively intimate. However, during one chat, a technical glitch revealed FitFrank's identity, leaving Gianni enraged.

Confronting Francesco at the gym, Gianni discovered his personal trainer's secret life as a creator of weight gain content. Francesco had been secretly livestreaming and profiting from Gianni's weight gain journey, while driving an extravagant lifestyle. Francesco confessed to making over €450,000 from donations by viewers fascinated with Gianni's transformation.

 Feeling betrayed by Francesco, Gianni hatched a plan to regain control. He proposed a new arrangement to FitFrank, demanding a majority of the revenue, FitFrank's authentic appearance and FitFrank joins in on food challenges. If FitFrank refused, Gianni threatened to expose him to his clients. Relantly, Francesco agreed, realizing that he had little choice if he wanted to maintain his luxurious lifestyle.

Together, Gianni and FitFrank continued their indulgent food challenges, delighting their followers with their ever-expanding physiques. FitFrank's following and body grew, and their loyal fans paid top dollar for their content. The money poured in, but Gianni couldn't help but wonder if his obsession with food and attention had gone too far. And how far will he go?

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 12

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Are you going to eat all that?” Mason chuckled.

“Yep” Adele said as she sat at the table.

“I still can’t believe you woke up early to go for a run after going out last night. What time was it when we came back?”

“Around 3 a.m.”

“And when did you leave?”

“At 7.”

“Addie, did you sleep?” Mason laughed.

“The moment my head touched the pillow I was out” she shrugged. Which was the biggest lie ever.

She had probably managed to sleep for maybe an hour and a half, and the moment there was light coming through the window, she had gotten up and ready to do the one thing that she knew always allowed her to not think about anything: running. So she put on her shoes, chose her favourite playlist, and left the hotel. 

“Lucky you” he sighed. 

“Didn’t you manage to sleep?”

“I did, but it wasn't pleasant. I kept waking up and… urgh” he groaned, checking his phone.

“What is it?” Adele asked, giving her croissant a big bite.

“My agency. I have a meeting in half an hour with them and they are already bothering me about it.”

“Is that the reason why you didn’t sleep well?”

“Yeah. We are organizing everything for the launch of the perfume's campaign, and it is driving me crazy.”

“Oh, the perfume… The one that started it all.”

“The same one” Mason smiled. Though it was his sad smile, the one Adele knew meant that something was going on. 

“Mase, are you ok?” she asked, reaching for his hand.

“I am, yes. Just tired” he said, his thumb caressing her knuckles, the butterflies on her stomach waking up.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know. Thank you, Addie” he smiled. But again, it wasn’t his usual smile. “Anyway, I better go get ready. It’s a zoom meeting and I want to look a bit more presentable.”

“I like the way you look” she said, speaking before thinking.

“Even if my hair is a mess?” Mason laughed.

“Messy hair is the best hair” she shrugged, not daring to look him in the eyes. “Will I see you later?”

“Of course. I want to take you to El Retiro, maybe go on one of those small boats they have?”

“The walk part sounds perfect. The one about the boats… I don’t know if I trust you” Adele teased him.

“I would never let anything happen to you. Ever” Mason said, the way he was looking at her, giving her the impression that there was something else behind those words. “And I better get going. See you later, Miss Turlington” he smiled, lifting her hand and kissing it. They hadn't stopped holding hands since the moment Adele had reached for his.

“See you later, Mr. Mount" she replied.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

“Uh?”

“Mase, you've been acting super weird the whole day. Did something happen during the meeting?” Adele asked him after their walk. 

“No.”

“Then why do look you so…” she said, gesturing with her hands.

“So?”

“Miserable. You look the same you did before your birthday.”

“It’s nothing.”

“There definitely is something. C´mon, talk to me” Adele said, following him as he walked towards his room.

“It’s nothing” he repeated.

“Mase… Mason” she said, grabbing his arm and making him stop. “Talk to me.”

“It’s… Fine” he sighed. “Come inside.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I’m ready when you are ready” Adele said, grabbing Mason’s hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. They had been sitting on his bed in silence for what felt like an eternity, which was only making her feel more and more nervous. What could have happened in that meeting for him to go back to this mood?

“Remember that I told you that the meeting was for the launch of the perfume?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we are going to be throwing a party in Tuscany because that's where we got the inspiration from and where we shot the campaign.”

"I remember your trip there. It was when I was in Paris with my mum.”

“That's the one, yes. This party… this party is gonna be huge, Addie. Big names in fashion will be attending, and also actors, musicians, influencers… Even some football players.”

“That is amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is, yes. But…”

“But?” Adele said, squeezing his hand once again.

“My agency has asked for something. Something related to us.”

“I already told them I will be at the party. What else do they want?”

“Something you aren't going to like, Addie.”

“What do they want, Mason?” she asked.

“They… they want us to walk the red carpet together.”

“No” Adele said, letting go of his hand and standing up. “No, no, no. We agreed I would not walk any red carpet or do anything that involves me having to actually pose in front of a camera.”

“But Addie…”

“I said no. You know how much I hate it.”

“I do. But they are insisting.”

“You mean they are threatening you again. I can’t believe it” she said as she started to pace around the room. “This has to stop, Mason. You can’t keep working with such horrible people.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Yes, you do! Sue them and leave them! My dad knows really good lawyers, they could help you.”

“It isn’t that easy” he said, nervously playing with his hands.

“Why not? Whatever those clauses are, I’m sure they will find a way to, I don’t know, annul them? There is this guy I met once in Barcelona who works with football teams and…”

“Adele, no” Mason cut her, also standing up. “Lawyers can’t fix this. And if they can, it will be too late. My career will already be ruined.”

“Because of some clauses on your contract?”

“Because… because… urgh” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Mase, hey” Adele whispered, caressing his cheek. “You can tell me whatever it is.”

“I can’t. Not this.”

“Why not? Mase, look at me” she said, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Why not?"

“Because if I tell you what they have against me, what they are using to make me do all these things I don’t want to… You won’t be able to look at me the same way. And I can’t lose you, Adele. I can’t” he cried, resting his forehead on hers.

“You won’t lose me, Mason. Whatever it is… I’m not going anywhere. But you have to tell me. You have to let me help you. Because this, keeping this secret, is hurting us both.”

“I know” he sobbed.

“Then tell me. What do they have that is so bad that it could end your career?”

“Addie…”

“Mason, please” she begged him, feeling a tear down her cheek. “Please, tell me what it is. Trust me.”

“Ok…” he sighed. “It’s… They… They have a sex tape.”

[city-of-ladies]

A pioneering female composer, Barbara Strozzi (1619-1677) defied the norms of her time. Unlike many women of her era, she was not a wife, a nun, or a courtesan; but an independent woman devoted to her music.

The heiress of the Muses

Barbara was immersed in music from an early age. Her father, Giulio Strozzi, an illegitimate member of the noble Strozzi family, played a significant role in Venetian musical life, writing librettos for major composers and poetry. Her mother, Isabella Garzoni, was Giulio’s longtime servant, possibly of Greek origin, as she was known as “La Griega” or “La Greghetta” (“The Little Greek”).

Unlike Nannerl Mozart, Barbara benefited from a supportive environment. Her father acknowledged her and provided her with a comprehensive education, allowing her to develop her talents from a young age. She trained with opera composer Francesco Cavalli, and by the age of 15, Barbara was already performing at gatherings in the Strozzi home. She possessed an impressive and flexible soprano voice, capable of singing complex compositions.

Her talent was widely recognized. In 1635 and 1636, composer Nicolò Fontei dedicated two volumes of solo songs to her. She also performed at meetings of her father’s intellectual circle, the Accademia degli Unisoni (“Academy of the Like-Minded”). Among the attendees was Giovanni Francesco Loredan, a supporter of feminist writer and nun Arcangela Tarabotti, who remarked that “had she been born in another era, surely she would have usurped or expanded the place of the muses.”

An extraordinary career

Barbara went on to publish her own compositions. In 1644, she released Il primo libro de madrigali (First Book of Madrigals, Opus 1), dedicated to Vittoria della Rovere, Grand Duchess of Tuscany, known for her patronage of female convents and musicians—a strategic choice on Barbara’s part.

Despite the dominance of opera, Barbara achieved recognition as a composer of chamber music. Her compositions showcased her vocal talent, though she sometimes wrote with other female voices in mind. Her songs explored themes of love, jealousy, joy, despair and sensuality. Most of her work was secular, but she also composed religious pieces in Latin—a unique accomplishment for a Catholic laywoman in early modern Europe.

Barbara’s work was more than just a portrayal of women as sensual temptresses; she also demonstrated a powerful and dramatic voice. An example of this is “Lagrime mie” (“My Tears”) from 1657, a poignant expression of a lover’s despair that fully utilized her vocal abilities.

Over her lifetime, Barbara published around 125 compositions across eight volumes, making her more prolific than any other female composer of her era. By 1656, her works were included alongside those of male composers in printed collections. While she did not perform publicly, her music has been preserved.

A troubled personal life

Barbara never married but had four children, at least three of whom were fathered by Giovanni Paolo Vidman, a friend of her father. Long-term concubinage relationships like theirs were not uncommon at the time.

The nature of their relationship remains unclear. An anonymous commentator wrote in 1677 that Giovanni Paolo had raped Barbara. This might seem contradictory given the length of their relationship, but societal norms of the time regarding female virginity sometimes forced women to remain with their aggressors to protect their reputations.

Through her work, Barbara was able to provide for her children. Giovanni Paolo died in 1648, leaving provisions for her and their children. Both of Barbara’s daughters entered convents, with the entrance fees paid by Giovanni Paolo’s wife, Camilla. Barbara rented a house from Giovanni Paolo’s brother until 1677 when she traveled to Padua, where she died of illness.

My Ko-Fi

Further reading

Kendrick Robert L., “Intent and textuality in Barbara Strozzi’s sacred music”

Magner Candace, “Barbara Strozzi, a brief history”

Ray Meredith K., Twenty-five women who shaped the Italian Renaissance 

[dodorimo]

something old, something new

Raphael x Tax is the main ship but this mainly features platonic Astarion x Tav

· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·

They’ve been doing this for hours. Her forehead glistens with sweat and her legs threaten to give out at any moment. If they keep up this pace, it won't be long before she is a goner.

“Ouch!” Tav cries out as the needle pierces her skin and a lone drop of blood runs down the side of her arm. The seamstress glances up, horror in her eyes, then breaks down into a flurry of apologies, leaving the room with the promise to return with gauze to staunch the blood flow.

Astarion, lounging in the armchair with a book in his hands, perks up at the sight of her distress, suddenly interested in the scene playing out in front of him.

“Darling,” Astarion says the moment the door closes, looking at her up and down. “This isn’t the one.”

“I like it,” she says, touching the fabric of the dress’ lacy, flowing sleeves while being careful not to disrupt the pins. “It’s my wedding, after all.”

The fact that this even had to be said was absurd.

“It’s an outdoor wedding in Tuscany,” he emphasizes the word, as if she needed a reminder. “In the middle of summer, no less. And you look like you’re going to haunt some poor peasant family.”

A sigh of pure exhaustion leaves her lips. This was the third dress she tried on, and all of them have failed miserably to impress her current company, or herself, for that matter.

She had no idea what she was looking for when walked into that shop. Her only requirement was ‘absolutely no trail, of any kind’. She’d rather be a bride who can walk down the aisle on her own, thank you very much.

“You seem a little stressed.” Graceful as a fox, Astarion crosses the distance between them and leans in to whisper in her ear, his voice low and laced with promise. “If you'd prefer, we could take an extended break to help you take your mind off the matter…”

She tries to put on a stern face, but her smile betrays her amusement. “Astarion, I’ll be a married woman in just three weeks.”

“So what? I’m sure Raphael would understand. Think of it as your version of a bachelorette party.” Hot breath tickles her ear and she shivers in anticipation in spite of herself.

“You’re incorrigible,” Tav scolds, shaking her head.

“Don’t act so outraged. Why else would you’ve specifically requested my presence today—”

“Because none of my girl friends have the patience?” she offers.

“—if not for this?” His finger traces her collarbone, all the way down to her cleavage. The touch is slow, deliberate, and entirely devoid of passion, as one would expect from long-term friends.

“I can barely move around as it is.”

It was only half a lie. Even raising her arms was proving too tall a task, let alone doing anything else.

“Your loss,” Astarion finally concedes, throwing up his hands in the air and returning to his chair; his voice never losing its playful lilt. “You can make it up to me in other ways. Like answering my questions, for one.”

There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes when she catches his gaze in the mirror. She braces herself for the worst.

“Is our mutual friend a good lover? He definitely looks the part.”

Tav does her best to mask her hesitation, but like blood on the floor, he picks up its scent nonetheless.

“Oh,” is all he has to say.

“It’s nothing like that. It’s…” she tries to make up for her blunder, to no avail. It’s complicated, she wanted to tell him.

“Say no more.”

Glad to let the subject drop, she turns her attention to her reflection in the mirror.

It was no surprise that Raphael took on the burden of wedding planning. But his methods could be… overwhelming. Everything had to be perfect: from the venue and the canapés to the music played at the reception (his own compositions, incidentally enough). Tav had no doubt that her list of potential guests would be returned with several names crossed out.

“I made up my mind. This is the dress. If he doesn’t like it, well… trust him to buy another one.”

“Hm. I suppose there’s some charm to it. A gift ready to be unwrapped.” He gestures with both his hands, as if tracing her curves. The dress flared at the top before narrowing at the hips, leaving little to the imagination. Was it trumpet or mermaid-shaped? She can’t remember. Either way, better to keep it in mind not to stuff her face full of wedding cake when the day finally comes.

She arches an eyebrow at him. “But I thought you hated it?

“You can say I was only playing devil's advocate. Now, I assume you’ve set aside enough time in your schedule today to buy the rest of the outfit?” he asks in a conversational tone, as if he’s commenting on the weather.

For several moments, she can only stare at him, confused, as he leans in to pop a candy into his mouth. What else could she have missed?

She still had to schedule hair and makeup for the big day, not to mention sort out some last pending details for their Caribbean honeymoon. She isn't cut out for this job. When it came to party planning, she was as helpless as a floundering baby in the middle of the ocean. How other women took joy in this experience was a complete mystery.

Astarion presses his hand to his face. “Oh gods, darling… the lingerie! What else? Arguably the most important part. There’s a reason there’s a store just down the street.”

Maybe she would be a goner after all.

[formulauno98]

Once Upon a Time in Mexico | Chapter Nine

Three months on from the French Grand Prix, life was going more smoothly, until yet another hurdle appeared. With your Dad coming to watch a race, the pressure was on to impress this weekend.

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Some very mild smut

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

Three months had passed since your fateful meeting with the HR department and the Board and as promised, you and Toto had kept your relationship on a strictly need-to-know basis. Bar the interview with Christian, the media had not picked up on your relationship and it seemed as if ultimately no one really cared. 

That being said, there were still only a few members of the team who knew the full truth as you had decided it just didn’t need to be addressed within the workplace. Time and time again you wished wholeheartedly that Lara wasn't one of them but thankfully she had dialled down the sassy comments. You still didn't quite trust her and you couldn't put your finger on why.

Since the French Grand Prix there had been several more races as well as the Summer break. You had taken this moment of peace and quiet to get to know Toto even better, away from the office, having travelled to Tuscany together for a short break at the beginning of the Summer. Things were going swimmingly and you were falling more and more in love by the day. Toto was keen for you to meet his two children and had suggested you take advantage of the impending end of the season to come to Austria and spend some time with them. You were apprehensive but hopeful that you would get along with them, although you weren’t holding your breath as they were teenagers at the end of the day.

During the shutdown, Toto had taken them on holiday to Costa Rica on an outdoorsy jungle adventure whilst you went to Portugal on a girl's trip. Those two weeks were the longest that you'd been apart since the beginning of your romance and you were happy to be right back at his side when racing returned.

Across the races that had transpired between France and Mexico, Mercedes had managed to claw back the points difference that had been lost and were now neck and neck with their arch rivals Red Bull. Toto was trying his best not to show it but you could tell that he was extremely stressed on behalf of the entire team and the manic energy flowing out of his veins was palpable by the time you touched down in Mexico City.

Fortunately, you had a distraction, your father was finally coming to a race weekend and you were looking forward to showing him what you did for a living. The only apprehension that you did have was the fact that you hadn't told any of your family about Toto, knowing that they would disapprove of the large age gap not to mention the fact that he was a divorcee with two children that you were still yet to meet. You hoped that you could keep your relationship under wraps in front of your father as successfully as you did with the team.

FRIDAY AM

One positive about Mexico City was that you and Toto were able to share a room without anyone from the team being aware of it. The way that the hotel was laid out, in various buildings around a compound, meant that you could easily get around without being spotted. This meant that you’d spent the last two nights in Toto’s rather impressive suite, cuddled up to your favourite man.

This particular morning you'd woken up to find the bed empty, guessing that your boyfriend had gone off to the gym as he often did in the morning. To kill some time you scrolled through your phone, grimacing at the barrage of emails that had already come in for the day. Just as you were about to scratch the surface of your inbox, the door opened to reveal a very sweaty-looking Toto.

“Y/N,” he said breathily, “You will never guess what I just saw.” 

“I'm not sure if I've got the energy to guess right now,” you said, stretching and yawning as you sat up in bed.

“Well I was crossing the bridge from the gym back into our building and I saw Christian Horner walking out from the other section of the hotel,” he said excitedly, his demeanour much like a kid waking up on Christmas.

“Okay, I know you and Christian have a really special relationship but I'm not sure if that's that exciting,” you said, still half asleep and not thrilled with the idea of sharing a hotel with the nasty Red Bull team principal who had publicly outed your romance just a few months earlier, jeopardising your entire professional reputation.

“No no but don't you see?” said Toto, “Red Bull are not staying in this hotel. Why would he be here first thing in the morning?”

Now you understood why Toto was so excited, “Oh gosh,” you said, “I didn't think about that, weird.”

“Exactly,” said Toto with a wild look in his eye, “I'm going to ask at the front desk which other teams are staying here. I know Red Bull are on the other side of town but I think Ferrari are here.”

“Damn, I can't believe you of all people found some juicy gossip,” you said, now fully sat up and awake.

“I know,” said Toto, crossing the room to lean down and kiss you.

“Ew, Toto, you’re kind of sweaty,” you said, recoiling as he dripped on you.

“Well then I have to make you sweaty,” he said playfully.

Batting him away jokingly, you replied, “Should I be worried that you see one glimpse of Christian early in the morning and you're this horny?”

Toto laughed, “Maybe, I am actually going to go down to the reception and ask them now while it’s still quiet.”

“Sure knock yourself out, I'll be waiting for you here.” you said, bemused at his enthusiasm, “I might jump in the shower if you want to join me when you are back?”

“I would very much like that.” he replied, kissing you once more,  “Right I will see you in five minutes.”

At that, he swiftly exited the room, on a mission to find out what was going on.

You couldn't help but laugh, Toto and Christian had a very strange and complicated relationship where they went from throwing relatively harmless schoolboy insults at each other to hitting below the belt as Christian had done at the French Grand Prix. Christian was an unpleasant character and wasn’t friendly with many of their counterparts, whereas Toto had a few more friends in the paddock. This meant that Toto typically took the high road and didn't retaliate but the French Grand Prix had shown Christian's true colours and he’d been looking for a way to retaliate for months.

Crossing the soft beige carpet of your suite to the bathroom you picked up the clothes that you'd strewn across the room last night as you'd made frantic love to Toto. You smiled as you picked up his crumpled white Mercedes shirt, thinking about how far you'd come in a relatively short time. 

Having tidied, you’d barely made it into the shower when Toto returned, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, it’s me, can I come in?" he called out.

You laughed at his perpetual politeness, “Of course, it would be rude not to. How was your mission?”

“Successful,” he said with a smug grin as he stripped off his gym kit and joined you under the steamy water.

“Oh yeah?” you asked as you turned around to face him.

“Yes,” he said, so excited by his news he wasn't even distracted by the fact that you were fully naked and lathered up in the shower. “The woman at the front desk said it's only Mercedes and Ferrari staying here.”

“Ooh, that is juicy!” you said, “So he was either seeing someone from our team or someone from Ferrari at seven in the morning in their room?”

“Exactly,” said Toto, the wild look back in his eye, “And the best part is we know everyone who is staying here so we can figure it out.”

“Check you, Sherlock Holmes,” you said laughing, “What shall we do?”

Toto stepped behind you wrapping his arms around you and palming your breasts as if it would help him with his predicament, “I can think of a few things.” he said.

“You have a one-track mind, Mr Wolff,” you said, “I meant about this Christian situation.”

“I have some ideas,” he replied, continuing to caress your breasts absentmindedly, “I think maybe we invite the team out tonight. We conquer and divide, maybe you can ask Rosie as well. She seems to always be on our side?”

“It’s divide and conquer,” you said, creasing up as his attempt at an English idiom, “But if I ask Rosie, then George will know by extension and he's not great at keeping secrets or being discreet.”

“But he kept ours?” wagered Toto, “I guess you’re right, let's keep it to just us.”

“I reckon,” you said, “Besides, my Dad is coming. So I need to keep him entertained too.”

Toto's wandering hands stopped dead, “Oh shit, I had almost forgotten.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Kind of.” he said guiltily, “I hope he likes me.”

“How could he not?” you said, “And anyway as far as he is concerned, you’re just my boss.”

Toto’s hands began moving again, “Your boss who you let shower with you?”

“Oh yeah, do you not shower with our other colleagues?” you said with a smirk, grinding yourself back, pressing your ass against Toto’s growing semi.

“Can’t say I do,” said Toto, growling, his hands now roaming lower, towards your sweet spot. “Turn around,” he added commandingly.

As you turned, you leant up to meet his lips with yours, always a stretch due to your height difference.

“Mmm.” he said, “Let me soap you up. Get you all clean.”

“Always so diligent,” you said.

“It’s the job of a Team Principal,” he said dead seriously, squeezing shower gel into his large hands and starting to meticulously lather your behind.

“Oh, so you do this for everyone on the team?” you said with a smirk. 

“Only the hot ones,” he said, working his hands up your back and around to your stomach.

“Oh, so Lewis too?” you said, laughing.

“You're such a nightmare,” he said, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.” With that he bent down to kiss you once more, pushing his fully hard length into your stomach.

Just as you were starting to lose yourself in your lover’s arms, you were snapped out of the trance by a loud buzz.

“Fuck, what was that?” you said, as you jumped apart.

“I think it’s the door.” Toto said, stepping to one side, “I’ll go and check. God help whoever it is. Stay here.”

As Toto wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way out of the bathroom, you shut the water off and wrapped yourself in a large towel, padding over to where he’d left the door open just a crack.

“Rosie.” you could hear Toto saying, his tone surprised.

“Hi Toto, I am so sorry to bother you this early but I tried texting Y/N and heard nothing. There’s something you both need to see. I tried her room but figured she may be here with you but don’t worry, if not I can just show you.” Rosie rambled, clearly nervous.

“No, no come in, she’s just in the bathroom,” said Toto.

Guessing this was your cue to come out, you opened the door.

“Hey Rosie,” you said sheepishly, well aware of how it looked, with you and Toto wearing nothing but towels.

“I am so so sorry to have interrupted,” said Rosie awkwardly.

“It’s fine, we were just getting ready.” you said, “What’s up?”

Rosie sighed, “The press have got wind of you two, the Daily Mail has a photo of you kissing and they’re going to run it on Saturday.”

“Scheiße!” exclaimed Toto, sitting down on one of the lounge chairs in the living area of his suite.

“How do you know?”  you asked Rosie, as you followed him through to the living area.

“We got a request for a comment from the journalist and I'm so sorry I only just picked it up because of the time difference,” said Rosie apologetically, as you paced up and down.

“Fuck, what are we going to do?” you said, stopping your pacing and turning to Toto.

“How should I know?” he replied, “You're the Director of Communications, that's why I hired you.”

“Touché,” you said “Well I think that what we should do is sit tight and see how this pans out. It might be a case that the story will be three-quarters of the way down the sidebar of shame and no one picks it up or thinks anything of it.”

“That's true,” said Rosie empathetically, “Sometimes these things don't take off in the sensational way that the journalists hope.”

“I certainly hope so.” said Toto, his tone serious, “But I know who will care about it.”

“Did they send the photo?” you asked Rosie.

“Yes, they did. Let me show you,” said Rosie, taking out her phone.

Glancing at Toto, you grimaced, wondering where this photo could have been taken. You hoped it hadn’t been in Tuscany as there was no denying it was a romantic holiday and you’d gotten carried away on your romantic picnics more than once.

“Here it is,” said Rosie, bending down to show Toto as he sat in his chair.

“Scheiße!” Toto exclaimed once again, “That was by the factory after we met with HR and the board.”

“Can I see?” you said moving closer.

“Sure,” Rosie replied, moving her phone across so that you could take a look.

Sure enough, it was blurry but it was undoubtedly you and Toto walking along the river bank after you had your meeting, cups of coffee in hand. To make matters worse, it wasn't just one photo, it was a series, one looking like you are deep in discussion, one with your hand on Toto’s chest and then the final one was him leaning down to kiss you.

You made a face at Rosie which she exchanged.

“Look it's obviously not great,” you said, “But honestly I think people don't care that much. Look at what happened after Christian tried to out us to Sky, no one cared. I just worry that the board will see this especially because it's near the workplace.”

“But do they know that it’s near the factory?” said Rosie, “It's not that obvious where that is if you don't know where it is. If that makes sense?”

“Robert will know,” interjected Toto, “I've taken him there for a coffee before.”

“Shit.” you said, “Although to the outside world, we're not wearing our uniforms it could just be any day.”

 “That's true,” said Toto, “At least they can't say that we're bringing shame on the brand.”

“I'm so sorry guys,” said Rosie, standing back up and putting her phone away. “If there's anything I can do to help let me know. I’ll leave you alone now and again, I'm so sorry for coming to disturb you so early.”

Standing up from the chair, obviously feeling awkward about the fact he was only wearing a towel, Toto said kindly, “No, thank you, Rosie, I appreciate you coming to us. I'm sorry for not being so presentable this morning, I just got back from the gym.”

“Yes, thank you, Rosie, honestly it's good to have a heads up about things like this. At least we can start to think of a game plan,” you said kindly, “And again sorry that we're not quite ready.”

“Don't be silly,” said Rosie, “I'm just sorry that it was early and that I was the bearer of bad news.”

“It's okay, we'll figure something out,” you said as Rosie made her way back out of your suite. “Thanks again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“See you later,” said Rosie as she closed the door behind her.

“Are we ever going to get a break?” Toto asked as he sat down on the bed still only wearing a towel.

“Unfortunately, I think not,” you said, “If it gets to the Board again obviously I will go, please don't jeopardise your life for me. You've worked so hard for so long to build this team up, it would be stupid to throw it all away just because of something silly.”

“It's not silly when it's you,”  he said very seriously, looking you in the eyes, his dark eyes flashing intensely.

“You know what I mean,” you said, settling down beside him on the bed and putting an arm around his shoulder.

“The thing I don’t understand is how there are so many photos. Why would a paparazzi be at the factory on a random Monday?” Toto said, leaning into you.

“I agree, it is suspicious. I am going to ask around and see if someone will name the source,” you replied, trying to reassure him.

At that, he managed a small smile, “Thank you. Do you want to finish in the shower and I'll come in afterwards? I love you but I'm not really in the mood now.”

“Don't be silly, we can still go together. We don't have to fill every moment with sex. I'm happy to just have a shower with you,” you said.

Toto flopped his head down on your shoulder in agreement, “Sure let's do it.”

FRIDAY PM

Having wrapped a successful Free Practice, you were now back in Toto’s hotel room, frantically deciding a game plan for the evening’s dinner. The news story Rosie had rushed to tell you about was due to come out in the early hours as it was running on Saturday morning UK time, and you just hoped no one would see it while you were all out. On top of that, Toto was still insistent on going through with his madcap scheme to find out what Christian was doing in your hotel that morning. 

The team had been surprised by your sudden insistence to go out last minute on a Friday night but seemed enthusiastic about going for tacos and margaritas. You’d managed to convince most of the team to come along and ulterior motives aside, it was always nice to build some team spirit.

Crazy schemes aside, you also had to contend with the fact that your Dad was coming to join you for drinks after dinner, having landed in Mexico City that afternoon.

“So, what do I say to him?” asked Toto as he buttoned up his blue linen shirt beside you in the bathroom.

You sighed, “Nothing, you’re my boss, that’s all he knows. Say boss things.”

“I don’t like it.” said Toto, “But I’ll play along.”

“Good.” you said, kissing him on the cheek, “I just know he’ll be dramatic about his little girl dating a big scary man and we don’t need more drama this weekend.”

“Big and scary?” said Toto, raising an eyebrow, “I’m not sure I am big or scary.”

“Have you seen yourself?” you asked.

“You know what I mean.” he said, “I hope the team doesn't feel weird that I’m coming tonight.”

“I think you have a complex about this.” You said, “They love it when you participate.”

“I doubt this,” said Toto, tightlipped and unconvinced.

———

The atmosphere in the restaurant was jovial, with the team in high spirits after a successful Free Practice. It was a good turn out and Lewis and George had even joined for the evening, much to the team’s pleasure. Toto had been correct in his assumptions that people would be thrown off that he was joining you but it wasn’t long before the margaritas were flowing and they began to let loose, not worried about what their boss would think.

You’d divided up, working the tables to make sure you spoke to everyone in the team, casually dropping the fact that you were sharing the hotel with Ferrari here and there, hoping that someone might talk. It wasn’t long before you struck gold, with Bella.

“It must be nice being in the same hotel for once, no?” you asked, knowing that her husband, Gio, worked for Ferrari.

“Yeah, it almost never happens!” she said brightly, “Who do I need to speak to for us to always stay together?”

You laughed, before trying to subtly dig some more, “I guess the travel department but Ferrari would have to agree too. I’m not averse to it personally, I’d rather see them around than the Red Bull lot.”

Bella nodded in agreement before dropping her voice, “Yeah but do you not know about Christian Horner?”

“Huh?” you asked, playing dumb, “What do you mean?”

Bella looked around as if scared someone would overhear her in the loud restaurant, “He’s seeing one of the PR girls at Ferrari, Gio saw them a few weeks ago and he must have been in our hotel last night. We saw him creeping out this morning.”

You tried your best to feign shock, “No way! Isn’t he married as well?”

“Yup.” said Bella, pulling a face, “Nice guy right?”

“Indeed.” you said, “His poor wife. Although, actually, scrap that, if I was married to him, I’d be encouraging him to go off and find someone else.”

Bella laughed, sipping her margarita once again, “Same to be honest. They’re all whispering about it at Ferrari. I think they’re worried he’s doing it for information.”

“Oh really?” you asked, trying to catch Toto’s eye to signal that you’d uncovered what he was looking for, “But what does this girl look like? I’m sure he’s just a horny old man.”

“That’s true, she’s much younger than him, pretty and a redhead, so just his type.”

“Oof,” you said, finally managing to catch Toto’s eyes and winking at him. 

Never one to miss a trick, Bella whipped her head around to see who you were winking at. “I still swear he has a thing for you, you know.”

Playing coy, you laughed it off, “Nah, he’s just goofy.”

“You like that though,” said Bella cheekily.

“I do like him, but just as a colleague,” you said, “I’m glad he’s our boss and not that slimeball Christian.”

“Me and you both,” replied Bella.

Just as you raised your glass once more you clocked a familiar face coming into the restaurant, “Bella, you’ll have to excuse me, my Dad has just arrived!” you said excitedly, “I’ll just go and say hi and bring him around to say hello to everyone.”

“Ah lovely, I’m looking forward to it,” said Bella, turning to chat with her colleagues who were sitting on the other side of her.

Crossing the restaurant, you were nervous, your Dad had never visited you at work before and you weren’t sure what he’d make of your increasingly rowdy colleagues.

“Mi hija!” he exclaimed loudly as he spotted you making your way towards him.

“Papa!” you said, warmly embracing him. It had been a while since you’d seen your father, having only gone home for Christmas, “How was the flight?”

“Good thank you,” he said, “How are you? How was the free practice?”

“Good thanks, it went well. I’m excited for tomorrow and so excited you’re finally coming to a race.” you said, “Do you want to meet my colleagues?”

You’d spotted Toto immediately clocking your father and straightening his collar. You couldn’t help but smile, clearly meeting the parents was nerve-wracking at any stage in life.

“Sure,” replied your Dad with a wide grin, “I want to meet the famous Rosie.”

Smiling that he remembered your friend’s name, you clocked Rosie, lurking in the corner with George and a few other members of the press team. Making your way over you spied Toto getting up to come over and join you.

“Hey guys, there’s someone I’d like you all to meet, this is my Dad!” You said, “Dad, this is Rosie, George, Olivia and Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, we’ve heard so much about you!” said Rosie, immediately leaping up to say hello. George followed suit, shaking your Dad’s hand and exchanging pleasantries before a scared look in his eye told you that Toto was standing somewhere behind you.

“Hey Toto,” said George nervously, clearly not sure if your Dad knew about your relationship.

“Oh Dad, this is Toto, our boss,” you said, turning around to allow Toto to make his introduction.

“Hello, so lovely to meet you finally,” said Toto, flashing a grin as he shook your Dad’s hand, “Your daughter is a superstar.”

“Likewise,” your Dad said, clearly pleased by Toto’s words, “I know, you’re very lucky to have her.”

“Believe me I know it,” said Toto, looking over at you adoringly. “Can I get you a drink at all?”

“That would be great, I’ll come with you to the bar,” replied your Dad, slapping Toto on the shoulder, despite the fact he was a good foot shorter, “Mi hija, would you like anything?”

“Can I please have another piña colada?” you asked.

“Of course, can I get anyone else anything?” your Dad asked, turning back towards Rosie and crew.

“We’re good for the moment but thank you,” Rosie replied.

At that, you watched nervously as your Dad and Toto disappeared off towards the bar. Settling down beside Rosie and George, you checked that Olivia and Emily were deep in conversation before saying “Eek I’m nervous.”

“Does he know?” asked George.

“Nope, we decided it’s better to go with he’s just my boss for now.”

“Oooh.” said George, “Well you need to tell Toto to stop making googly eyes at you, he’s so obvious about it these days.”

“I think that will be the least of our problems after tomorrow,” you said furtively, glancing at Rosie.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” she replied kindly, “As we said, no one really cares.”

“Hmm,” you said unconvinced.

———

As the night went on, drinks were now freely flowing and you could see some of your colleagues were too far gone. The younger mechanics always pushed it too hard and you were worried they’d be hungover and grumpy for quali the next day.

Your Dad was deep in conversation with Rosie and George and you spied Toto leaning against the wall, chatting to the senior engineers. Making your way over, you gently tapped him on the arm.

“Hey Y/N, how are you? The guys were just saying how much they like your Dad,” said Toto.

“Aw that’s sweet, I think he’s loving it!” you said, looking over to where he was now dragging Rosie up to start dancing.

“I can see that,” replied Toto. “Do you think we should try and wrap things up?”

“That’s why I came over.” you said, “Shall I do our usual trick?”

“Good idea,” said Toto, winking at you as his companions looked blankly, “You’ll see,” he said, turning to them.

You smiled as you sauntered over to the bartender. Having booked the restaurant out entirely you could easily call it a night.

“Hey, I know this is unorthodox but do you think we could do a last call? I don’t want everyone to be hungover tomorrow,” you said.

“Sure,” said the bartender, “Although I think it might be too late.”

As if on cue, you spotted Mo falling over his chair as he tried to get up. Sighing, you replied, “Maybe.”

Rejoining Toto, who was now standing alone, checking his emails and looking grumpy, you discreetly whispered, “I have the juicy gossip by the way.”

He perked up immediately, “No one was cracking, who is it?”

“Good news, none of our lot.” you said smiling, “He’s knocking off one of the PR girls at Ferrari.”

“How did you find out?” he said, his eyes lit up.

“Bella,” you said with a smirk.

“This is good,” said Toto, “I can use this.”

“Jesus, you’re as bad as he is,” you said. “I’ll tell you everything later, yeah?”

“So you’re coming back to mine?” he said excitedly, just as the last call bell rang.

“Of course.” you said, “But we need to be careful with my Dad. And on that note, what were you talking about with him at the bar?”

“Just chatting,” said Toto, folding his arms smugly.

“Sure,” you said suspiciously.

———

Having rounded up the troops, the team were now merrily making their way back towards the hotel. Thankfully it was just a short walk and you were happy to see your Dad getting stuck in and chatting away to anyone who would listen.

Toto was walking ahead with Bono and Lewis, deep in conversation about the coming weekend so you rushed to catch up with your Dad.

“Hey stranger,” you said, looping your arm through his.

“How are you my love?” he asked, “Your colleagues are very nice.”

“I’m glad you like them, it’s my favourite part of the job.” you said, “They were all excited to meet you so I’m sure you’ll be spoiled all weekend.”

“Yes, George said I can sit in the garage.” your Dad said smugly, “And Toto, he’s quite something no?”

“Did he now?” you said laughing, “Well it’s actually my decision who sits in the garage as a guest so I’ll be having words with George. But yes Toto is lovely.”

“He is in love with you.” said your Dad, turning to you on a more serious note.

“Huh?” you asked, taken aback by his frank admission.

“He only has eyes for you.” he said, “When we were at the bar he kept glancing over at you. Trust me I know these things. You could do a lot worse mi hija.”

Feeling guilty that your Dad was right on the money you sighed, “Well then, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Your Dad smiled, “I knew it. Just be careful, he is a little old for you.”

Smiling, you replied, “I will be. He was so nervous to meet you.”

“I could tell,” your Dad replied, “He kept telling me how brilliant you were at the bar and that he hoped you would work together forever.”

You laughed, “How romantic.”

“I could tell what he really meant.” said your Dad dryly, “He will have to meet your mother though.”

“I know.” you said shyly, “I hope she likes him too.”

“Of course, she will. You look so happy mi hija, I haven’t seen you glowing like this in a long time.”

‘Thanks, Papa,” you said, kissing him on the cheek. “Just so you know, only a few of our colleagues know so please keep it quiet.

“Of course.” he replied, “It’s wise in the workplace.”

Having reached your hotel, it was time to say goodnight, “I will come and meet you in the morning and we can go to the track together?”

“Sounds good, sleep well and thank you again for inviting me,” he replied, grinning widely.

SATURDAY AM

Waking up on quali day, you were very content with how the following evening had gone. Toto had been thrilled by the fact that you’d confessed your relationship to your Dad and that he semi-had his blessing. Snuggling into Toto’s broad chest, you were so comfortable that you almost forgot the shitshow that was going to greet you when you checked your emails.

Leaning up to kiss Toto’s neck you could sense he was stirring awake.

“Morning,” you said, kissing him once more.

“Morning,” he replied sleepily, clutching you closer into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

Knowing that you had to face reality as quickly as possible like a band-aid being ripped off, you extracted yourself from Toto’s vice-like grip.

“No cuddles?” he said, now wide awake and put out.

“I need to check my emails,” you said, sitting bolt upright and reaching for your phone.

“Oh shit,” said Toto, rubbing his eyes.

“Indeed,” you said.

You didn’t have to look far to find the article, it was the top search result for Mercedes AMG Petronas this morning, the glaring headline reading “LOVE IN THE PADDOCK, MERCEDES TEAM BOSS TOTO WOLFF COSIES UP TO YOUNG COLLEAGUE.”

Groaning you scrolled down the article, they’d gone in heavy on the fact that Toto was two decades your senior and that he was your boss.

“What does it say?” asked Toto, sitting up in bed and putting on his glasses.

“The tone is not great,” you said, continuing to read. “But it’s not very long and mostly just the photos.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” Toto asked.

“I think we let it be, I’m sure it won’t go far,” you said, hoping you were correct.

“Fuck,” said Toto, now checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?

“Robert has put in a meeting.” he sighed, bringing his palm to his face.

“Shit, when?”

“After quali.” 

It wasn’t often that Toto looked nervous but he was looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Look, like I said, if he gives you a hard time, I will go,” you said bluntly.

“I don’t want you to,” said Toto, equally as bluntly.

“He’ll push for it,” you said.

“I’ll push back.”

“I know you will,” you said, reaching across and putting your arm around Toto. “But like I said, don’t jeopardise this for me. It’s a job for me at the end of the day. You built this team, it is what it is thanks to you and I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if anything came in the way of that.”

Toto pondered silently, obviously mulling things over. “Let’s see.”

——— 

Unfortunately, as your colleagues had started to wake up, your phone had started to blow up with messages asking what was going on.

Omg, Y/N! I knew it. Hope you are okay, the Daily Mail is brutal.

It was Bella. Then came a message from Tom.

Sheesh Y/N, no wonder you’re always smiling these days. I expect a full juicy debrief asap.

Not having the energy to reply yet you turned your phone off, turning to Toto.

“Everyone is asking me what’s going on,” you said flatly. 

Toto sighed, “Well maybe it’s time to come clean. I don’t like lies in the team.”

“I guess,” you said, laying your head on his chest.

“Look, I know that you still feel everybody's going to think that you're trying to sleep your way to the top,” said Toto, “But you've more than proven yourself at this point. No one can possibly think that. Just that you're crazy for going out with me.”

“I hope so,” you replied, “Stop saying that, people will think that you're the crazy one for going out with me.”

“As if,” Toto snorted, “They’ll be jealous of me.”

You rolled your eyes, “I doubt this highly.”

“Let’s wait and see,” said Toto, leaning over for a kiss, pinning you down in between his strong arms.

SATURDAY PM

Quali had gone even better than you had dared hope, with Lewis and George obtaining P1 and P2. Despite the sore heads from last night's shenanigans, drinks were flowing once more in the garage as the team celebrated the first front-row lockout of the season.

Nowhere to be seen, however, was your affable boss. Toto had slunk off to his office to take his meeting with Robert, barely raising a smile at your drivers’ valiant efforts. Now that your relationship was common knowledge, you felt in a way that a weight was off of your shoulders, however, now the pressure was on.

“Where’s Toto?” asked Rosie, as you stood nervously in the garage, not participating in the celebrations as you awaited his return.

“Long story,” you said.

Rosie looked a little shocked at your glum demeanour, “I hope everything is okay.” 

“Thanks.” you said, “I’m going to head to my office for a bit, can you please keep an eye on my Dad?”

“Sure, no problem,” she said, looking concerned.

As you wove your way through the garage and down the paddock to your office you were a bundle of nerves. You loved your job almost as much as you loved Toto and it would kill you to give it up after the huge amount of work you’d put in over the last eighteen months. But in your heart, you knew you would never forgive yourself if Toto put his neck on the line for you as this was his team at the end of the day.

You grabbed an espresso before settling down at your desk in your office, desperately trying to distract yourself with your inbox. You could hear Toto murmuring next door but not loudly enough for you to pick out any words. Furiously typing a reply to an email, you heard his chair roll back and the door creak open. 

A gentle knock on your door, “Y/N, I can hear you typing. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you said, feeling awkward that he knew you had been trying to listen in.

Closing the door behind him, a serious-looking Toto crossed the space to sit on the sofa in your small office.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was that loud,” you said, embarrassed.

“No, not at all, I like it, I always know you’re close by,” he said, folding his arms. “Look, Robert is not happy with me but I managed to talk him around.”

“Really?” you said, eyes bright.

“Don’t get too excited, there is a but. He asked that you stay out of the spotlight, so no more press conferences, no more TV, no more media appearances, no more attending sponsorship events on behalf of the team.”

“That’s the but?” you asked incredulously, “Honestly, I’m fine with that.”

Toto smiled, “I know. But I pushed back.”

“Why?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because whether you believe it or not, you are a huge asset to the team. I told him that you will continue your day-to-day role, and the fact that you are my girlfriend is incidental. And that one day you’ll be my wife and he’ll have to get used to it.”

Your mouth fell open. Wife? “Well, thank you, and he was okay with that?”

“He has to be,” he said bluntly.

At that you hopped up, making your way around your desk to lean down and give him a lingering kiss, his large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap.

“Toto!” you squealed, “This is my office!”

“I know, and I also know no one will be up here for at least the next ten minutes,” he said with a smirk, pulling your hips down closer to his, his hands creeping up your now untucked team shirt. Sighing, you gave in, kissing him back voraciously and running your hands through his hair.

With your luck, it was only inevitable that at that very moment, there was a knock on your door.

Leaping up, you straightened your shirt and Toto tried to fix his ruffled hair.

“Hello, Y/N, are you there?” It was Rosie.

“Hey Rosie, yes, sure come in,” you said.

As the door opened to reveal a startled-looking Rosie who had caught onto what she was interrupting, she stuttered, “I can come back later. I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t be silly, I was just leaving,” said Toto, getting up from the sofa and flashing a grin at your flustered colleague.

“Oh okay,” she said.

“See you later Toto,” you said.

“See you,” he replied, closing the door behind him.

“I am SO sorry.” said Rosie, “I need to stop interrupting you guys.”

You laughed, “Don’t worry, he was just updating me on the Daily Mail situation.”

Rosie looked sceptical, “Sure, sure. I just came up to check if everything was okay. You looked super sad in the garage. And before you panic, George is with your Dad.”

“Thanks, Rosie,” you said, “I was worrying, but it seems to have been for nothing.”

Appeased by your cheerful tone, Rosie replied, taking a seat on the sofa, “I’m glad to hear that, I knew Toto would handle it. He’s always been good at smoothing things over.”

“I hope so,” you said, gazing off into nowhere. “I guess I should head back down, and rescue George.”

“He’s fine, he’s loving the attention.” said Rosie, “You know what he’s like, a sixty-year-old man in a twenty-something-year-old body. They’re kindred spirits.”

You laughed, “That’s true.”

“I’m sorry again about this morning, when Toto opened the door in a towel I was mortified,” Rosie said, looking nervous.

“Oh gosh don’t worry, I think he was more embarrassed than you.” you said reassuringly, “And for the record, we genuinely were just getting ready.”

“Still embarrassing.” said Rosie, “Although for the record, damn, he’s in good shape. I always thought he would be but sheesh.”

Laughing, you replied, “He’s alright I guess. And you can talk, George with his washboard abs.”

“Let’s see how long they last into retirement,” said Rosie wistfully.

“Ooh things are that serious?” you asked.

“I hope so, he asked me about maybe getting engaged soon,” Rosie said, looking down at her feet.

“Oh my gosh, Rosie this is big!” you leapt up from your desk, “I knew it.”

Rosie looked pleased, “Let’s see.”

“Shall we head back down?” you asked, “I came up here to answer some urgent emails and managed to smash through them.”

“Sure,” said Rosie, standing up.

——— 

A few hours later, the team were wrapping for the evening in an attempt to get an early night ahead of the race. Your Dad had already gone back to his hotel to freshen up for dinner leaving you alone with Toto once again.

Wandering through the paddock you were conscious that rival teams were now aware of your relationship and you hoped they wouldn’t take too much notice. As you walked side by side you were suddenly greeted by a loud wolf whistle.

“Ooooh, look at the happy couple!” It was Christian Horner, looking smug as usual, swaggering up to you from within the Red Bull hospitality area.

“Good evening Christian,” said Toto frostily.

“Toto.” said Christian, nodding slightly, “Y/N. How’s wedded bliss? I heard you were getting frisky in the factory recently.”

Sensing Toto’s body clenching beside you, you tried to diffuse the situation in the only language that Christian would understand, sarcasm, “Yes, all day every day, right in the middle of the boardroom.”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Toto,” said Christian, “How does the phrase go, you’re only as old as the woman you feel?”

Toto looked livid, replying angrily, “Well I heard you’re fond of a little Italian.”

The blood draining from his face, Christian fought to compose himself before replying nonchalantly, “And?”

Toto’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not sure your wife would be thrilled by the news.”

Looking defeated, Christian threw his hands up before backing away, “You’re a sly bastard, I’ll give you that. Enjoy your evening.”

“And you,” you said through gritted teeth, Toto still raging beside you.

Making your way towards the car park you turned to Toto, “He really is a piece of shit.”

“One hundred per cent.” replied Toto, “I hate bowing down to his level but he went too far last time.”

Stroking Toto’s arm lightly you tried to calm him down, “Oh, you got him good this time. He’ll leave us alone now, I’m sure of it.”

Toto’s brow furrowed, he was unconvinced. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” you said confidently, “By the way, I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of who sold the photographs to the Daily Mail and every source is a dead end. I think it has to be someone at the factory.”

Toto’s eyebrows shot up, “At the factory.”

“Well yes,” you paused, explaining, “It’s not always a paparazzi who provide images to tabloids, sometimes they buy them from a private individual.”

“But who would do that?” asked Toto.

“I can think of someone,” you said.

“Lara?” he asked, on your wavelength.

“I think so. She’s been suspiciously nice to me recently,” you replied, having finally reached the car that would take you back to your hotel. Sliding into the back seat beside Toto, you turned to him, “How has she been with you?”

“The same as always,” mused Toto, covering your hand with his.

“I just don’t get her,” you said quietly, aware that the driver could hear every word.

“I know.” said Toto, “I will do some digging tomorrow if I have time.”

“Well it’s race day so don’t get too distracted,” you said. “We can find out next week when we’re back home.”

“True.” said Toto, “On that note, I wondered if you would like to come to mine for dinner on Wednesday next week?”

Surprised by his invitation as you were yet to go to his place in England, you replied, “Ooh yes, I’m curious.”

“It’s nothing special but I’d like to cook for you,” he said sweetly.

“I’d love that,” you said, looking at him lovingly, “And after you said that about your house in Monaco, I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Toto smirked, “No, the Monaco place is nicer. But this place is cosy.”

Already envisioning cuddling up on the sofa, you couldn’t wait.

SUNDAY PM

As usual, race day flew by at an alarming pace, with you feeling as if you’d barely sat down in the garage when the chequered flag was waving. It was a double podium finish with Lewis taking P1 and George P2, a success that meant Mercedes were now even with Red Bull as constructors.

The team were elated and Toto had rallied the team to meet in the garage post-race, your Dad included. He’d had the time of his life this weekend and fortunately for you, with your demanding schedule, the team had doted on him constantly. 

Standing in the garage beside Toto, you could tell that there were once again some curious glances being shot towards you. As more of the team gathered, Toto made his way across to you, sidling up beside you and bending down to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to tell them.”

You turned to him surprised, “Are you sure, is it not kind of weird?”

“No, it will be fine trust me,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the bar.

“Gather around everybody, there are a few words I would like to say,” said Toto, immediately commanding the attention of the team, the chatter instantly dying down. “First of all, I want to congratulate each and every one of you for today’s incredible effort and the results. We are now equal with Red Bull in the Constructor’s Championship and have the possibility of overtaking them.” He paused as the team applauded and cheered, “I’d like to say a special thank you to Lewis and George for their drives today, as well as our engineers and technicians who worked so tirelessly to gain us these crucial tenths of a second.”

“Thanks guys!” interjected Lewis, who was standing on the edge of the garage, listening in.

“Yes, thank you, couldn’t have done it without you,” said George cheerfully.

Toto laughed, “And as always thank you to everybody else in the team who makes these weekends possible.” he paused before glancing over at you, “I am also sure that many of you may have seen the story in the press about Y/N and I. As we are a team, I do not want secrets and I wanted you all to know that it is true, we have been seeing each other romantically for quite some time now.”

Murmurs echoed around the garage as heads turned around to look at you. Shrinking back behind the hulking figure of Bono, you had never felt more embarrassed in your life, until Lewis broke the tension with a cheeky wolf whistle.

“Ooohhh, tell us something we don’t know boss,” he said with a glint in his eye. “Just make sure you invite us all to the wedding yeah?”

Toto blushed and continued, “I just wanted you all to know straight from the horse’s mouth… is that the right phrase?” he looked at you pleadingly.

“Yes.” you said laughing, “For once.”

The team broke into laughter as your boss often confused English phrases and you always ended up correcting him.

“Thank you. Anyway, now that is out in the open, I hope you will join us in celebrating this weekend tomorrow evening at the factory.” Toto was beaming, clearly relieved to have got the news off of his chest, “Again, thank you to every one of you, this weekend has been good.”

Applause followed before the team started to mill about, some staying to pack up and others rushing off to the airport to make their flight. Fortunately, you would be taking the jet a little later so had no need to run yet.

Making his way towards you, Toto was smiling widely, his dimples out in full force. “Well that was easy,” he said.

“Worst kept secret in the paddock if you ask me,” said Bono, turning to you both, “Joking aside, I’m happy for you both.”

“Thank you, Bono,” you replied, wrapping your arm around him, “I’m happy too.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the engineer said, “Toto, this girl is special, you’re a lucky guy.”

“Believe me, I know,” said Toto, beaming down at you.

Through the throng of people your Dad emerged, walking straight up to Toto and slapping his hand on his shoulder, “Well that was interesting, young man.” he said.

Toto looked a little embarrassed, “I hope you didn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” said your Dad, “If Y/N is happy, I’m happy. But you do need to come and meet my wife soon.”

“Dad…” you shot daggers at him, not wanting to make Toto uncomfortable.

“It would be a pleasure,” replied Toto. “Y/N is coming to Austria during the Winter break to meet my family so maybe we can come then too.”

“Perfect,” said your Dad, clapping his hands together and turning to you, “Your mother will be thrilled.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but hope that this meant Toto was serious about your relationship. The casual comments about becoming his wife and the declarations of love pointed that way but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“Great,” you replied, “We’ll come in December sometime then.”

“Check with your Mother though!” said your Dad, backtracking slightly.

“Always,” you said with a wink, knowing full well that she ran things in the house.

“Right, well I think we had better head off no?” said Toto, conscious that you had a plane to catch.

“Indeed, you said,” leaning towards your Dad to say goodbye and thank him for coming. It had been a great weekend all around, both professionally and personally. As he bid farewell to Toto you had a newfound respect for your charismatic boyfriend. Your father was not an easy man to win over and he’d done it in a matter of minutes.

In the hubbub of the garage, what you failed to notice was the same pair of eyes that had watched you on and Toto the river bank, this time angry.

[transgenderer]

Curious what you find objectionable about the Midwest? It’s got its flaws, mostly the weather, but not everywhere can be coastal Orange County or Tuscany, you know? It’d be nice if they had some more of that though

also relevant, what specifically are you referring to as the Midwest, nobody can seem to exactly agree where it is. I’ve lived there on and off, and people online have a very expansive idea of the boundaries compared to any impression of where the Midwest is and isn’t that I ever had.

cold and totally devoid of culture and most importantly FLAT flat is evil. flat is bad. if youre gonna be flat you need to be steppes you need to be horsemaxxing. alcoholism capital of the hemisphere. i have no interest in the boundaries of the midwest

[vmygdvlv]

Stray Kids AU (italian boy version)

Hwang Hyunjin as Edoardo Ricci

Edoardo was born in Tuscany, more specifically in Florence, coming from a family with a rich cultural heritage, from a lineage of artists and academics. He grown up surrounded by art, literature, and music, which shaped his artistic sensibilities. The childhood in Florence was marked by a nurturing environment, including his parents and siblings, that fostered his creative talents. Surrounded by art and design from a young age, and supported by his family, he developed a passion for fashion that led him to pursue a career in this field. The household was filled with artistic influences, from paintings and sculptures to stylish attire. From a young age, Edoardo was also exposed to art galleries, fashion exhibitions, and design studios. His family encouraged his interest in drawing, painting, and creating his own designs, nurturing his creative talents.

As a teenager, Edoardo began to focus more on fashion, experimenting with clothing design and creating his own sketches. He spent hours designing outfits and studying fashion trends. His school projects often involved elements of design and style. He admired iconic Italian designers and international fashion figures. He followed Milan Fashion Week closely and was inspired by the creativity and innovation in the fashion world. He attended an art high school, where he excelled in art and design courses. He participated in extracurricular activities related to fashion, such as fashion clubs or design competitions. During his summer breaks, he interned at local fashion boutiques in Florence. These experiences allowed him to gain hands-on experience and insights into the fashion industry.

Edoardo realized that fashion design was not just a hobby but a true passion. His artistic skills and love for creating unique designs made it clear that he wanted to pursue this as a career so, to receive the best education in fashion, Edoardo chose to study at Istituto Marangoni, Milan’s fashion school. Moving to Milan was both exciting and challenging for Edoardo. Milan, known as the fashion capital of Italy, was a vibrant, fast-paced city filled with opportunities. He rented a small apartment in the Brera district, known for its artistic vibe and proximity to the fashion industry’s heart.

At university, Edoardo excelled in his studies, impressing his professors and peers with his creativity and dedication. He quickly became known for his innovative designs that combined classic Italian elegance with modern, avant-garde elements. His magnetic personality and keen sense of style earned him a close-knit group of friends, many of whom were also aspiring designers, artists, and photographers. He’s a natural in social settings, making him effortlessly connect with people not matter the context.

Personality speaking, he was a complex and multifaceted individual, embodying a blend of creativity, ambition, and sensitivity. His upbringing in Florence, surrounded by art and culture, shaped him into someone with a deep appreciation for beauty in all forms. He was meticulous, with an eye for detail that often borders on perfectionism. This drive for perfection pushed him to excel in everything he did, whether it was his fashion designs, his relationships, or his personal presentation. But while his attention to detail was a strength, it did also be a crippling weakness. He often obsessed over minor flaws, which leaded to frustration, burnout, and an inability to appreciate his own successes.

His own journey in Milan was marked by significant personal struggles. The pressure to succeed in the competitive world of fashion weighed heavily on him, exacerbating his perfectionism and anxiety. He often felt like he wasn’t doing enough, no matter how much he achieved. This mindset created a constant inner turmoil, where he was battling his own high expectations and fear of failure. As a metter of fact, beneath his confident exterior, he was deeply sensitive. He tended to internalize criticism, and his self-worth was often tied to external validation, making him prone to anxiety and self-doubt.

His ambition sometimes blinded him to the importance of balance in life. He frequently prioritized work over personal relationships, leading to feelings of isolation and burnout. His emotional vulnerability made it difficult for him to open up fully, and he often hided behind a facade of confidence and charm. In an attempt to manage the stress and anxiety of his fast-paced life, he turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Over time, he developed reliance on smoking, something that began as a social habit but gradually became a crutch to deal with stress. Late nights spent working often lead to excessive coffee consumption, further fueling his insomnia and anxiety.

There was also a period where Edoardo struggles with alcohol. The fashion industry’s culture of parties and networking events introduced him to a lifestyle where drinking becomes a way to unwind and escape. While he was not addicted, he occasionally overindulged, using alcohol to numb the pressures of his demanding life.

Some of Edoardo’s closest friends have tried to reach out, offering support when they noticed he was particularly stressed or down. However, Edoardo’s tendency to deflect and change the subject made it difficult for them to help. He appreciated their concern but was reluctant to burden others with his problems, believing he should have handle things on his own. Federico was one of the few people Edoardo truly allowed to see his more vulnerable side. Despite his tendency to mask his struggles, Federico had a natural warmth and empathy that made it easier for Edoardo to open up. Their close friendship gave Edoardo a sense of stability and comfort.

The turning point came during Edoardo’s second year of university. He was preparing for a major fashion show, one that could make or break his career. As the event approached, the pressure intensified, and Edoardo’s substance use increased. The night before the show, he had stayed up for nearly 48 hours straight, fueled by a combination of stimulants and alcohol. Exhausted and on edge, he arrived at the venue only to find that his work was not up to his usual standards. The show was a disaster.

The failure hit Edoardo hard. He was devastated not just by the poor reception of his work, but by the realization that his addiction was impacting his performance and well-being. For the first time, he saw the stark reality of his situation—the bright future he had envisioned was being clouded by his addiction. He knew he had to make a change.

Recognizing that he couldn’t overcome this alone, Edoardo reached out for help. The first step was admitting his struggle to his closest friends. He confided in Federico, who had always been a supportive friend. Federico was deeply concerned but also understanding, encouraging him to seek professional help and offered to support him through the process.

During his recovery, Edoardo made significant lifestyle changes. He established a daily routine that prioritized his health—regular exercise, balanced meals, and sufficient sleep became non-negotiable aspects of his life. He also found solace in painting and sketching, using these activities as a therapeutic outlet. Federico and his friends remained by his side, they celebrated his small victories and were there for him during the tough times. Edoardo slowly regained his confidence and composure. The experience of overcoming his addiction gave him a unique perspective on his work, infusing it with authenticity and depth.

Family background

Edoardo’s family is characterized by a supportive and loving network. His relationships with his parents and siblings are marked by mutual respect and deep bonds. Each family member plays a unique role in his life, contributing to his personal growth and providing essential support during his journey through addiction and recovery. Family gatherings and holidays are cherished moments where they reconnect and support each other.

Orlando, father (architect specializing in eco-friendly urban design, 57) — he is reserved but deeply supportive. He is supportive and proud of Edoardo’s achievements, though he initially struggled to understand his son’s passion for fashion. Over time, the respect for Edoardo’s dedication and talent deepened, and their bond strengthened.

Grazia, mother (art historian and curator, 55) — she is empathetic and nurturing, offering crucial support through Edoardo’s struggles. Her understanding of the art world helps her provide both emotional and practical support.

Livia, older sister (public relations manager for a fashion house, 28) — Livia always been a supportive sister, she is in fact a close confidant and provides practical advice and emotional support. Her career in fashion makes her especially understanding of Edoardo’s struggles and ambitions

Guglielmo, younger brother (biomedical engineering student, 22) — he admires Edoardo and often seeks his guidance. Their relationship is supportive and encouraging, with Guglielmo looking up to his brother as a role model. He was deeply affected by Edoardo’s struggles but remains a source of motivation and positivity

Friendships

These friendships showcase the variety of connections Edoardo has in Milan, from creative collaborators to long-time friends. Each relationship plays a significant role in his life, providing support, inspiration, and companionship.

Zeno — they met during their first year at university in Milan. They bonded over their shared love for fashion and design, and Zeno quickly became one of Edoardo’s closest friends. They often collaborated on projects and attended fashion shows together, sharing their experiences and providing support

Alessandra — they were childhood friends who reconnected in Milan. They both ended up at the same university, and their deep-rooted friendship from their school days helped them quickly settle into life in the city. She is a reliable and empathetic friend who often serves as a sounding board for Edoardo’s personal and academic struggles

Marta — they met during a group project in their second year at university. Their teamwork and shared vision for their project helped them develop a strong bond. Marta’s analytical and detail-oriented approach complements Edoardo’s creative mindset. They often collaborate on academic and personal projects, leveraging each other’s strengths.

Riccardo (Bang Chan) — they met at a music and art collaboration event at their university. Riccardo, studying music production, was looking for someone to help design costumes for a student project, and Edoardo volunteered. They quickly became close friends, with Riccardo acting as a supportive and understanding presence in Edoardo’s life. Riccardo’s calm demeanor helps Edoardo stay grounded when university life becomes overwhelming

Federico (Felix) — Edoardo met Federico during an elective photography course. They were paired up for a project, and their creative visions aligned perfectly. Federico, who also dabbled in modeling, appreciated Edoardo’s fashion sense and requested his help with styling. Federico’s cheerful personality brings light to Edoardo’s life.

Leonardo (Lee Know) — they met thanks to their professional collaboration in a major fashion and performing arts event in Milan. They began collaborating on dance performances, with Edoardo designing costumes for Leonardo’s shows. Their friendship is built on mutual respect for each other’s talents. Leonardo admires Edoardo’s fashion design skills, while Edoardo appreciates Leonardo’s dedication to dance.

Cesare (Changbin) — they first met at a university networking event in Milan aimed at fostering collaboration between business and design students. The event was organized to encourage cross-disciplinary projects, and both Cesare and Edoardo were drawn to a panel discussion about the intersection of fashion and entrepreneurship. Their friendship is strong, built on mutual respect, shared ambitions, and the ability to learn from each other’s strengths.

Giulio (Han) — they met during a literature seminar in Milan. Although Giulio was a literature student and Edoardo focused on fashion design, they both attended a university seminar on the influence of literature on modern art and design. Giulio and Edoardo share a deep intellectual bond. They enjoy discussing how literature can influence visual arts, with Giulio often recommending books that inspire Edoardo’s designs.

Vittorio (Seungmin) — Edoardo met Vittorio through Giulio. When Giulio and Vittorio decided to collaborate on a project that combined literature and cinema, Giulio introduced Edoardo to Vittorio as a potential costume designer for their project. The three of them worked together on a short film adaptation of a literary piece. They share a mutual respect for each other’s craft and often brainstorm ways to blend fashion, film, and literature into unique projects.

Valerio (I.N) — Edoardo met Valerio during one of his visits to Turin. Giulio and Vittorio invited Edoardo to Turin for a film screening, where he was introduced to Valerio. Edoardo immediately connected with Valerio over their shared passion for the arts. Valerio and Edoardo have a friendship built on mutual admiration for creativity. Valerio looks up to Edoardo as a stylish and confident role model, while Edoardo appreciates Valerio’s fresh perspective and technical skills in sound design.

Neighborhoods

Brera, Milan — is a chic and artistic district in Milan, known for its vibrant cultural scene and historical charm. It's home to art galleries, the Pinacoteca di Brera, and stylish boutiques. The lively atmosphere and artistic vibe of Brera align well with his interests in fashion.

Santo Spirito, Florence — is a lively and bohemian neighborhood in Florence, known for its artistic heritage and vibrant street life. It's situated on the Oltrarno side of the Arno River and is famous for its Renaissance architecture and local artisan workshops.

Favorite Italian artists

Gazzelle — offers a unique take on pop and indie music. Gazzelle’s introspective and emotive lyrics, paired with his unique pop sound, resonate with Edoardo’s artistic sensibilities

Coez — Coez’s fusion of rap and catchy pop melodies offers a refreshing and relatable sound that Edoardo appreciate. His favorite Song is “Faccio un casino”

Negramaro — a band with a distinctive sound blending rock and pop. Known for their distinctive blend of this two genres, Negramaro’s dynamic sound and heartfelt lyrics connect with Edoardo’s taste for powerful and engaging music

Levante — a singer-songwriter known for her poetic lyrics and modern pop. Her sound appeal to Edoardo’s appreciation for thoughtful and contemporary music.

Franco Battiato — an experimental artist with a broad range of influences. Battiato’s experimental and eclectic approach to music attract Edoardo’s interest in diverse and unconventional artistic expression. His favorite song is “Cerco un centro di gravità permanente”

Rino Gaetano — known for his satirical and socially aware songs. Gaetano’s satirical and socially aware lyrics offer a unique perspective that resonate with Edoardo’s appreciation for insightful and critical music.

Favorite dishes

Arancini — sicilian rice balls filled with a variety of ingredients such as ragù, peas, and cheese, then breaded and fried.

Cacciucco — a hearty Tuscan seafood stew made with various types of fish and shellfish, tomatoes, and red wine.

Lasagna — layered pasta dish with meat sauce, béchamel, and cheese.

Pici Cacio e Pepe — a traditional Tuscan pasta made with thick, hand-rolled spaghetti-like pasta, cheese, and black pepper.

Panzanella — a Tuscan bread salad made with stale bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and a vinaigrette dressing.

Favorite movies

Cinema Paradiso (1988) — directed by Giuseppe Tornatore, it narrate a heartwarming story about a young boy’s love for movies and his friendship with a local cinema projectionist.

La Grande Bellezza (2013) — directed by Paolo Sorrentino, this film explores the life of an aging writer and the beauty and decadence of modern Rome.

Il Gattopardo (1963) — directed by Luchino Visconti, this classic film provides a rich portrayal of Italian aristocracy and fashion in the 19th century.

Il Casanova di Federico Fellini (1973) — a visually opulent film that delves into the life of the famous Venetian libertine, showcasing intricate period costumes and set designs

Gomorrah (2008) — directed by Matteo Garrone, this gritty drama offers a realistic look at the Naples underworld and the impact of organized crime on its community.

Favorite writers

Italo Calvino, “Invisible Cities” — known for his imaginative and poetic prose, Calvino’s work often explores themes of imagination and aesthetics.

Umberto Eco, “The Name of the Rose” — Eco’s blend of historical fiction and semiotics appeal Edoardo, interested in the deeper meanings behind art and design.

Dacia Maraini, “The Silent Duchess” — Maraini’s focus on women’s experiences and societal roles, being an inspiring example for his fashion studies.

Machiavelli, “The Prince” — Machiavelli’s work on political theory and strategy remains influential in understanding political philosophy and power.

Favorite seaside spots

Polignano a Mare (Puglia) — famous for its dramatic cliffs and crystal-clear waters, this coastal town offers a more serene experience compared to the popular beaches in Puglia.

Tropea (Calabria) — known for its stunning cliffs and crystal-clear waters, Tropea provides a quieter and more authentic coastal experience compared to other Calabrian beaches.

Santa Teresa Gallura (Sardinia) — located in northern Sardinia, this town offers beautiful, less-crowded beaches and a laid-back vibe, ideal for those seeking a more relaxed seaside getaway

Sestri Levante (Liguria) — about 2 hours from Milan, this coastal town features the charming “Baia del Silenzio” (Bay of Silence), known for its scenic beauty and tranquil atmosphere

Most used slang words

Tanto di cappello — means “hats off,” used to show respect or admiration

Accattone — refers to a person who begs or is always looking for handouts

Troiaio — is a Tuscan slang term that is used primarily to describe a state of disorganization or messiness

Manco per niente — used to say “not at all,” often to emphasize the absence of something

Delafia — literally means “damn” and “holy shit”. It is mainly used to emphasize that one thing is really like that (Delafia if it's beautiful!)

Most used slurs

Cazzo — literally means “dick”or "penis." It's commonly used as a swear word to express frustration, anger, or surprise. Its usage can range from a strong expletive in heated situations to a casual exclamation.

Stronzo — is a derogatory term meaning “asshole” or “jerk.” It’s used to describe someone who is perceived as unpleasant, rude, or inconsiderate.

Gran cazzata — is an Italian slang expression that translates to “big bullshit” or “total nonsense”. Is used to describe something that is considered completely false, absurd, or ridiculous.

Bischero — means foolish or silly; used playfully among friends (Tuscany slang)

Representatives phrases

La moda è un’espressione di chi siamo [fashion is an expression of who we are] reason: reflects his passion for fashion design.

Non smettere mai di sognare [never stop dreaming] reason: represents his perseverance and creative spirit.

L’arte è la mia fuga dalla realtà [art is my escape from reality] reason: highlights his use of art as a personal escape and source of inspiration

Favorite idioms

Meglio un giorno da leoni che cento da pecore [better one day as a lion than a hundred as a sheep] reflects a bold, fearless attitude towards pursuing his passions and standing out in the fashion world

Non è tutto oro quel che luccica [not everything that glitters is gold] highlights the importance of looking beyond appearances, particularly relevant in the fashion industry.

Non ci piove [It doesn’t rain on it] used to express certainty or something that is obvious, such as “it’s given” in English

[archoniluthradanar]

I woke up this morning to find you gone

I woke up this morning to find you gone : a Volturi one-shot

The Twilight "Zone" series-these stories have a bit of strangeness about them.

Caius' human mate - First person POV

Caius' mate goes to bed with him, then falls asleep with him at her side as he is most nights. She awakens the next morning to find him gone. Not away, but really gone. And no one in the Volturi castle has ever heard of him. Or her. How will a human convince the Volturi she belongs there, and that her mate is real and is now missing.

oooooooooooooooooooo

My name is Allie Carson. I was an American who had lived in Washington state all my life. It was a fairly normal life, that is, until I met Caius. He was handsome, almost regal in his carriage, rude when it suited him, and an old-fashioned gentleman when he chose to be. I could tell right off he was...different.

I had bumped into him on the street, literally. He had been sent, he later told me, to keep an eye on a local family here in Forks.

"Are you a cop or FBI agent? I asked him, curious.

"Nothing so mundane," he replied curtly. "Why do you care?"

I ignored the snark. "Mundane? Now you have me really interested. I would never say the work of a detective or an agent of the government was mundane."

He only smirked, which intrigued me more. I told him I was on my way to have lunch at a local diner and asked him to join me. He agreed after looking around the main street. I briefly wondered what he was looking for, but by the time we reached the diner, my mind was on the hamburger lunch deal my stomach was demanding.

We sat at a table, and the waitress came by with two glasses of water. She set them down and took out her pad. "Hello, Allie, I see you found a friend. Stranger around these parts?" she asked Caius, her eyes obviously admiring him. "What can I get you both?"

"Marsha, I'll have the hamburger lunch deal, with a Coke." I looked at my impromptu companion. "Can I get you anything...uh?"

"Caius," he said, finally smiling.

"Caius? Ok then, Caius...did you want anything?"

"No, thank you. I've eaten already," he replied, leaning back against his chair.

There was that smirk again. "I guess I'm the only one eating, Marsha." After she went to put in my order, I looked the blonde man over. "Caius is a strange name."

"It's an old family name. I rather like it," he said.

"Oh, I do too. Unusual names run in my family. Even though I ended up with 'Allison', dad once told me he wanted to name me Athena, but mom objected."

"The Greek goddess," he said knowingly.

"Are your parents historians or something? Your name, the fact you instantly recognized one of the Greek gods."

"Actually, I am a historian so to speak. I...read a lot about history. Do you like history as well?"

I was so impressed to meet someone like Caius. Here in Forks, the library had minimal books on ancient history, so I had to buy a lot of used books online. "Yes, I love history, I don't even care what era. It all interests me."

His brilliant blue eyes lit up at my words, so I must have said something right. Just then, Marsha came by with my lunch plate and a glass of Coke.

"Here you go, Allie." She turned to Caius, asking him, "Sure you don't want anything?" When he shook his head, she nodded and left us alone.

We talked about anything that came into our minds until I had finished everything on my plate. "How long will you be in town?" I asked my lunch companion.

"Two days, maybe three. Then I'll return home."

"Where is home, if I may ask." I wasn't sure if he had to keep that secret, his job and all.

"I'm from Volterra." He must have seen my frown, since he immediately clarified. "Tuscany region, Italy.

"Wait. So you're not an American officer? Interesting." His accent didn't sound Italian, but perhaps he was a transplant.

We left the cafe together, but I had to get home, and Caius seemed distracted, his eyes again scanning the streets. We bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.

I walked across the street, still watching Caius. A young man, whose face I didn't recognize, walked up to him. They seemed to speak to each other as if they knew one another. The stranger was dressed in what appeared to be clothing from another era. He was handsome as well, and I wondered who he was. I sneezed, which forced my eyes closed. By the time I opened them, Caius and the stranger were gone.

The next morning, I left my house to find the blonde stranger standing on the sidewalk out front. He smiled when I walked over to him. "I just wanted to see you before I left," he said.

We spent the rest of the morning together. I asked him if he could reveal the name of the family he was watching. Were they criminanls, I asked him. He laughed.

"Not exactly criminals. The Cullens tend to do their own thing with no concept of the law."

Did he mean Carlisle Cullen? "Caius, Dr Cullen is highly respected here in town. We feel fortunate to have such a...a skilled physician in our small hospital, when he could find a better paying position anywhere in the country. And his family's great. I don't know them very well, but we have spoken at times. Alice is so sweet, and Emmett is a hoot."

"They've done nothing wrong...yet. I was only sent to watch them," Caius replied, trying to reassure me.

I admitted to myself I was intrigued by this man, a foreigner to my country. But I was stunned when the last day of his stay, before he was supposed to leave for good, Caius demanded to see me. Demanded.

We had gone for a walk into town and ended up at the park. We sat on a bench beneath a tree. I didn't say much, unsure how I felt about his leaving. His next words stunned me.

"I want you to join me in Volterra. Come with me and be my mate. I know it sounds strange, but it won't when I explain everything."

"It's been three days! I hardly know you, Caius! What is this all about?" I looked up at him while he stood and paced in front of me.

"I cannot tell you everything, Allie. You have to trust me when I say we belong together. I confirmed this with Marcus."

"Who the hell is Marcus? Caius, are you crazy?" I shut up when he took my hands in his and sat beside me.

"I...work with Marcus. He has a gift of recognizing relationships between people, a hundred, fifty...two. He told me you and I are destined to be mates."

"Mates. As in spouses?"

"If you wish to call it that. All I know is what I feel when I am with you. My previous mate died long ago."

Long ago, he said, when he barely looked thirty years old. My head was spinning, yet when he suddenly kissed me, my brain took the time to stop thinking while I let this man gather me in his arms and continue to kiss me. When he pulled back, I gazed at him in shock. Yet could it have felt more natural.

So I left Forks forever, binding my life with Caius', before I even knew much about him, or what he was.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was like any other night, Caius and me lying in our bed while we talked about the day's events. We were laughing about something that happened, when he moved to hover over me, pressing his lower body against mine. I smiled up at him while wrapping him in my arms. then kissing him. I was still human, so he had to be careful he didn't accidently bite the tip of my tongue off. Soon he would change me, and he would not have to hold back any longer.

We made love until I was tired out. He let me lie against him, our fingers entwined. "I love you, my heart," I said.

"I love you, amore mio," he replied, pulling me closer.

I closed my eyes and Caius held me until I fell asleep.

Sunlight poured through the window, waking me. I turned to my left to see an empty spot in our bed. I sat up, calling for Caius. Maybe he was in the shower, but he usually asked me if I wanted to join him. I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. No Caius. I touched the shower wall. It was dry.

Had he been summoned by Aro for a last minute meeting or trial, and didn't want to wake me?

I quickly dressed and went in search of my mate. I entered the door of the throne room, and found no one. Perhaps they had gathered in the larger audience hall. I was on my way there when strong arms grabbed mine, pulling me back against a tall, marble-hard body.

"Felix, you startled me." When I turned to look up at him, his expression frightened me. It was as if he didn't know me. When he grabbed my arm, I struggled against the pain. "Felix, you're hurting me." Even the fearsome Felix had never harmed me since I arrived here. This was very much out of character for him.

I was unceremoniously dragged to the smaller throne room, where Aro now sat with Marcus on the dais that lacked one chair. This was crazy. Where was Caius' throne?

I was about to ask what was going on and where was Caius, when Aro rose from his throne and walked down the three steps to stand before me, Felix still holding my arms but less tightly.

"Who are you and how did you get inside this place?" His red eyes bore into mine.

"Aro, I've been here ever since Caius brought me here. And where is he, by the way. What have you done to his throne?"

I saw Aro glance back at Marcus, who was sitting still, as he usually did. The quiet one merely shook his head.

"Aro, can you please ask Felix to let me go."

Aro gave the tall guard a blink and Felix stepped back, but not far from me.

I rubbed my arms and glanced around the room to see most of the top guards standing against the wall. They all looked at me as if they didn't know me.

"What is your name, my dear," Aro asked.

I had to laugh. "You know me, brother. I'm Allie, Caius' mate?"

Aro looked aback when I called him brother. He stepped back, turned and walked slowly back to his throne, sitting once there. 'You say you are Allie, mate to Caius. Yet we know no Caius...nor you."

This was insane. I was in a nightmare it seemed.

I pointed down the line of guards. "That's Demetri, Chelsea, Afton, Santiago, Jane, Alec. Heidi is most likely out fetching tourists for your next meal. You're Aro and he's Marcus. If I hadn't been here awhile, how would I know your names or theirs? I also know you're vampires." I looked over at the empty far corner. "Where is Caius' throne? It usually sits there, at your left."

"There has never been another throne, my dear. Marcus and I are the sole leaders of the Volturi. There are no others." He spoke gently, as if to a child.

"Yes, there is! Caius helped you form the coven ages ago." I had lost my composure by now.

Aro asked me a question, I think to test my story. "And who are you to this Caius?"

"I'm his mate, from America. He brought me here 10 months ago. You promised me one year before you insisted I be changed. I have two months left. And now I don't even belong here, so it seems."

I gave a pleading look at Marcus. who was always kind to me. He stared back at me as he would a stranger.

Aro appeared to be thinking, when he suddenly stood, walked down the steps, and grabbed my wrist, saying tersely, "Come with me."

I was suddenly afraid. "Where are you taking me, Aro?" Very afraid. "Aro, please don't kill me. Give me a chance to explain!"

"Foolish human, I'm not going to kill you, or you would have been dead already." We stopped in front of our chambers, mine and Caius'. "You say these are the rooms you shared with this Caius?"

I opened the right door and walked in. "These have been Caius' rooms for longer than I know. I have lived here with him for the last ten..." My heart dropped. I looked around to find an empty set of rooms. The furniture was gone. Our belongings were gone.

I ran to the bedroom, then searched the massive closet. It was empty of our clothing and the large jewelry case Caius had bought me to hold all the beautiful necklaces, earrings and rings he had chosen for me over the months. There was nothing left behind to bear witness to his extreme generosity.

I turned to Aro. "I don't understand. It's all gone. But it was here when I woke up this morning. I dressed and left to look for Caius." I thought for a moment. If Caius had disappeared from this place, perhaps time itself, all the things he had bought for me would be gone too. It was a logical assumption that if he never existed, anything tied to him would never have been here. And I would not be here. But I was. I am.

I started to walk back to the outer door. While I stood in the corridor, I felt Aro move behind me. I awaited execution, but instead, he took my elbow and led me back the way we came.

"You're not going to kill me, Aro?"

"I said I would not. You know too much, but what you know proves some of your story. For now, Marcus wishes to speak with you."

"No problem. I know the way." He let go my arm and we walked side by side to Marcus' chambers. When we came to his doors, Aro left me there with a pleasant expression, reassuring me.

I reached up and knocked on the heavy wooden door. It opened to reveal the tall melancholy vampire.

"Welcome, my child. Come in." He stepped aside to allow me in and led me to the settee. I sat down and tried to get comfortable.

"It's good to see you again. Marcus. I'm glad you asked me here since I want to ask you, do you see me with your gift? Am I with anyone?" Caius maybe.

Marcus looked a bit surprised that I mentioned his gift. "Yes, I know about your gift. When I arrived here from America, you confirmed with Caius and me, that we were mates and belonged together. Why don't you remember that?"

Since I had arrived here in Volterra, Marcus had always favoured me, and his lack of emotion basically made him more relaxing to be around. When Caius was off on some mission with the guards, Marcus would invite me to his rooms and read to me while I lay my head on his lap. Sometimes he would comb my hair with his fingers in a soothing manner. Anything to calm me during my mate's absences.

"Sit here, child. Aro asked me to talk with you about your delusion..."

"Marcus, it's not a delusion! I'm telling you all the truth. Caius met me in America, and we spent some time while he was in Forks. He asked me to go home with him because we belonged together." How many times did I have to say it. "He checked with you, telling me you have the gift to see relationships." I shut up, too tired to speak anymore.

"I have something to ask you, child. If you want to stay here, Aro has given his permission, as long as you stay with me. Eventually if you wish, you can become my mate and I will change you myself. For now, I will ask nothing of you."

I knew what he meant. I looked over at Marcus. Dear Marcus. I had no where else to go. I nodded silently.

I stayed with Marcus for the next 4 days. He was true to his word, asking nothing of me. Instead, he did what he could to make me feel better.

He had chosen a favourite book, reading to me while my head rested on his thigh. His fingers caressed my head while he played with my hair. His soothing voice became an even drone of words.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

I must have fallen asleep. I rose up on one elbow and looked around me. I was back in my bedroom, Caius' bedroom. Everything seemed as it should be. I turned to see Caius walking from the bathroom as he was drying his hair with a towel while completely naked. I stared up at him with what must have been a look of utter shock, before I jumped out of bed and ran to him, grabbing him and kissing his face and mouth.

"Oh my god, where have you been? I have been looking all over for you and no one knew who you were and everything here was gone..."

Caius dropped the towel when I had grabbed him. "Whoa, my love, what is all this? What do you mean I was missing and everything was gone."

"Am I dreaming now?" I grabbed his hands and looked at him, my expression serious. "I woke up five mornings ago. You were not in our rooms, so I went in search of you, thinking perhaps Aro had called for you. Felix found me and dragged me to the throne room. I asked Aro about you, and he acted like he had never heard of you. No one had. I was sure he was going to kill me since I had no reason to be here and was still human. I think the fact I knew so much convinced him I had been here for the last ten months." I would have rattled on hysterically had Caius not stopped me.

"Allie, shhhh...slow down, love." Caius cupped my cheek gently, then pulled me to him. He was here, back with me, and yet it was like five days ago all over again, only Caius was the one who didn't believe me.

"I spoke with Marcus and he offered to take me in so Aro would not have to kill me. He promised me if you never came back, he'd take me as his mate and change me himself."

"Wait, Allie, what are you talking about?" He gripped my upper arms with his hands. "Who the devil is this Marcus?"

Frowning, I looked at Caius in disbelief. "God, not again."

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 3

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on. Part One Part Two

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Blood and violence, a brief SA, explicit smut (not the SA). No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: I'm back with part three of Bona Dea! If you haven't read parts One and Two, you probably should to understand the plot. There are a few points about Roman society, especially women's role in it. In a very archaic way, daughters remained under the lawful rule of their fathers even after they married. This meant that if a father found out his daughter was unfaithful to her husband, he was allowed to kill her. There are no historical sources of this happening, but the thought alone... A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Letica - a vehicle, a litter used for carrying people Caligae - sandals used by Roman soldiers, studded with metal on the sole. When walking on a hard surface, they make a clattering sound Puella - young girl Vita mea - my life

After Marcus had left you, sleeping in the bed of the room he’d brought you to, you’d slumbered for a little while before waking up and making your way back to the bedroom where Alba was still sleeping. The next morning, you asked for the letica to be brought forward, and you returned to your own villa with Alba without seeing Marcus again. There were no officers around the villa at all and Alba quietly wondered if they’d all returned to the camp outside the city walls to prepare for their march to Rome. She glanced at you as she said it, but you didn’t respond, just stepping into the letica and turning away from the empty courtyard. You were torn, wanting to see Marcus, but also sure how you’d keep your composure in front of him if he came to bid you a formal farewell. There was so much left unspoken between you, so many questions you wanted answers too, but you didn’t know if you could demand them from him. He seemed to care, but the difficulty of your situation was not easily navigated. Did he think it was worth the trouble? How much were you really worth to him? The thought burrowed itself into your brain as you travelled back home in silence. 

As predicted, your husband was in a foul mood, hungover and still recovering from the bad oysters. He was also displeased with how little attention the great general Acacius had given him. Called to his room, you found him still in bed, pale and clammy as the physician prepared a draught. 

“What did the general say last night after I left?” he demanded of you, “Did you find out if he has a wife or a sister you can befriend? We need to secure an invitation to his villa in Rome!” With an impatient hand he grabbed the proffered cup and waved away the physician. 

“He has no wife as far as I know, and no sister was mentioned,” you replied, waiting patiently with your hands folded in front of you at the foot of the bed. You could feel one of Marcus’ love marks on your wrist and you prayed it wasn’t showing a bruise. The ache between your legs was already a constant reminder of the two nights you’d spent with him. 

“Well, when are they leaving? We’ll invite the officers here as soon as possible, tomorrow night,” your husband took a sip of the draught and grimaced, his hand clasping his stomach as he winced, “Fuck those oysters, I’ll find out who sold them to Acacius and have them flogged.” 

“I heard mention that the army is marching to Rome today, husband,” you said, and with a dramatic groan your husband fell back against the pillows, waving you away without a glance. 

You happily left, there was an ache in your heart too, not just your body. Marcus was on his way to Rome and he’d left a big gaping wound behind. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, he hadn’t left a note or a message. His feelings, which had been so clear last night when he whispered them to you, in the stark light of day were harder to hold on to. Had he meant it all? Or was he just caught up in the moment, drunk on both wine and lust? And all you could do was hope that your husband would soon travel to Rome and take you with him. There was no way of getting a message to Marcus without arousing suspicion, and how would you even word such a note? There was no circumstance under which a married woman could communicate innocently with a man outside of her family, least of all a celebrated general. It all seemed hopeless. 

If his officers noticed that their general was quieter than usual as they rode out to the camp, they didn’t mention it. He rode at the front, flanked by the standard bearer, but apart from surveying the landscape around him, a die hard habit from years in enemy territory, he was silent, deep in thought. He’d made a promise, as much to himself as to her, to see her again, to not let that night be the last. But how he was to achieve that, he hadn’t been able to solve yet. 

Titus Cassian Aurelius has served under general Acacius for nearly three decades. They’d first met long before Marcus was the celebrated general he was today. They’d come up through the ranks together, but because of his low birth, Titus would never make general. It didn’t bother him, he served as Marcus’s right hand man and made sure his orders were followed in camp when Marcus left. Marcus was the military genius, Titus made sure day to day was working, keeping the soldiers and the camp in shape. Together they were an almost perfect Roman unit. And when Marcus dismounted his horse and handed the reins to the stable slave outside the general’s tent, Titus knew immediately something was bothering his old friend. 

“General Acacius, good to have you back. The men are ready to march,” he said, following Marcus into the tent. It was almost bare, stripped and waiting for the final marching order from the army’s general. 

Marcus grunted in reply and draped his heavy cloak over a chair in the corner, the only remaining piece of furniture. With a sigh he rubbed a hand over his face, contemplating how he’d breach the topic with his most trusted advisor. Matters of the heart was not usually something they discussed, the only women they’d met in the past two years were the whores who inevitably followed the army, and the discussion had been mainly about their lack of hygiene. 

Now Marcus turned to Titus with a furrowed brow and he, in turn, raised his in question. 

“Is something the matter, Marcus?” he asked. In private, they used their first names with each other, a sign of their long and deep friendship. Marcus often felt immense gratitude for Titus, the support it was to have someone he could trust with his life at all times, and now was no exception. There was no one else he could’ve brought this up with. 

“I fear I’ve got myself in trouble while camped in the town,” he said with a wry smile, “a woman, nonetheless.” 

“A woman?” Titus looked surprised, this was not what he’d expected of their general, and he took a step closer as Marcus began to pace the tent. 

“Yes, a woman, a very special woman,” he sighed, “she takes up a great deal of space in my head, and even more in my heart and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Who is she?” 

“The wife of a local business man, a foul man, base and ignoble, and he treats her badly,” Marcus answered, clenching his fists tightly as Titus looked concerned. 

“A married woman, brother?” 

“Yes, unfortunately. Although I didn’t know it when we first met, she wasn’t with her husband and she didn’t mention him. And after I met him, I understood why.” He rolled his eyes at Titus, “He’s an oaf. Last night we hosted a dinner for the local dignitaries and he was there with her. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, as if Venus had stepped down among mortals, but he barely spoke a word to her all night and when he did, it was only to insult her intelligence,” Marcus made a face of distaste and shook his head, “He was like a leech, trying to attach himself to anyone with more power and influence than him, and yet he had the most captivating and intelligent woman sitting next to him all night, but he gave her nothing but sour looks.” 

“Last night only? How did she get you into trouble in just one night?” 

Marcus grimaced, it wasn’t his way to brag about sexual conquests and he cleared his throat in unease as Titus waited for an answer. 

“They have an unusual way of celebrating Bona Dea in this town,” he began, “the night before last, as I left the thermae, I found the town deserted, not even the lamps had been lit. Lost in the dark, I stumbled on to her villa and was pulled inside by a group of women celebrating the night...” Marcus gave a small chuckle at the memory, “You see, Titus, any man who’s found outside on that night is free game for the women, to do whatever they want with.” 

“Whatever they want?” Titus laughed in surprise as he caught on, “You mean, anything at all?” 

“I mean anything,” Marcus confirmed, “I passed a brothel and the leno told me a story of a man being made to fuck a goat!” 

“Gods…” Titus laughed, shuddering at the thought, “Please don’t tell me you were made to fuck any animal?” 

“Thankfully, no. Someone did float the idea around, but it was passed over out of concern for the goat.” 

Titus laughed as Marcus grinned, “It was an interesting experience though. They blindfolded me as soon as I came inside, told me the rules and stripped me naked.” 

Titus eyes nearly fell out of his sockets, “Please, go on, and tell me you got to fuck some of these women?” 

“I did, I don’t want to be crass about it, but it was certainly an experience.” 

“And the woman, Venus as a mortal? Did you…?” 

“Yes, it was her house and she was in charge, when the younger girls had fallen asleep, I spent the night with her,” Marcus sank down on the chair and ran his hand through his hair, “She had a presence that drew me to her, even when I was blindfolded, the way she took charge, ordering me to touch her…” Marcus trailed off, lost in thought and Titus drew a deep breath. 

“Gods, I wish I’d joined you in town, Marcus!” he chuckled, “You had an adventure most men would only dream about.” 

“And it didn’t do me much good. Now I can’t get her out of my head and I’m at a loss about what to do!” Marcus groaned, “I tried staying away, but when she came to the dinner last night, I was nearly struck dumb. And before I knew what I was doing, I took a great risk and sought her out as she went to relieve herself. I had to know if she felt even a fraction of what I felt after our night.”

“And did she?” Titus asked, looking at Marcus with concern, he’d never seen his friend so frustrated and lost over a woman before. In fact, he’d never seen him this lost before at all. Marcus' great strength as a commander was that he never lost his way, he always knew what was needed, even if the road to get there was difficult and hard. He was never without a plan and then two or three contingency plans, mapping the road to his victory and taking every possible pitfall into consideration. But now he seemed to flounder as he talked about a woman who’d so clearly captured his heart.

“She does, how I don’t know, but she does. She told me and then she showed me with her actions. By chance, or intervention of the gods, she had to stay the night at the villa we commandeered in town. We spent the night together again, and things were said that makes me believe she feels just as deeply for me as I do for her. But how can I be with her? She’s married!” 

Marcus slumped in the chair and sighed deeply, “We march to Rome today, and then she’ll be lost to me forever and I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” 

Titus narrowed his eyes as Marcus rubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply again. 

“Delay the march, I have an idea, brother,” Titus said after a few moments of silence, “You say this husband of hers is greedy and power hungry, let’s use that against him.” 

“Delay the march? We need to be in Rome in a few days, we’re expected by the emperors.” 

“I’ve planned for delays, we were due to arrive three days early if we leave today. We’ll just arrive two days early if we stay here another night, it won't make a difference.” 

Titus gave his old friend a bright smile, “Come on, I haven’t met this woman yet, but if she’s got the great Marcus Acacius on his knees, she must be truly special and that I can’t let you give up on.” 

When evening came, your husband was feeling better, but still remained in his private bedroom rather than come to the one he shared with you. Grateful for small pleasures, you still tossed and turned throughout the night. It had never been easy to be married to a man you didn’t love, but it had been convenient. As long as you could put up with his occasional visits and demands for his marital rights, you led a comfortable life and saw little of him. But now, with Marcus invading your every thought, it became impossible to feel content with the life you had. You could feel his hands on you whenever you moved, small bruises and marks littering your body from the two nights you’d spent with him, reminding you of him as the night dragged on. 

It was foolish, you didn’t know the man, not really. You’d seen him surrounded by his men and guests during one evening, spent two incredible nights in bed with him, but all that fueled your passion for him was lust. The way he made you feel when he put his mouth, his hands, on you, it drove all rational thought from your mind. Yet you felt yourself standing on the verge of throwing all you had away for him, for the opportunity to be close to him again. There was a deeper connection there, you felt certain of it. 

When morning came, you were heart broken and exhausted, picking at the food the household slaves put out. Your husband came through and nibbled on some dry bread before he called for the letica and headed out. A message had been delivered early and he was called away on business. 

Grateful to be alone, you withdrew to the gardens at the back of the villa, where the cool water of the fountain kept the air fresh. Alba hovered nearby, but she sensed your mood and stayed quiet, working diligently at her embroidery. You wandered around the garden, absentmindedly tending the late blooming flowers that still showed their colours in late December. The wilted heads were plucked off and tossed aside as your thoughts drifted to Marcus despite your best efforts to push him to the very back of your mind. Each snap of the dry stalks felt like another rejection of any hopes you had of seeing him again. 

“Domina, excuse me,” one of your servants had approached on soft feet and startled you with their deferential interruption, “General Acacius is here to see Master Lunaris but he has not yet returned so the general asked to see you instead.” 

“General Acacius?” you asked, managing at the very last moment to keep your tone neutral, “show him to the reception room, I’ll be right there.” 

The servant bowed and hurried off and you went in search of Alba. You needed her in the room with you, you could not let the servants see you alone in a room with a man, but Alba would be discreet. 

“Alba, come here, quickly!” you called to her when you spotted her on one of the low marble benches, “He’s here!” you hissed as you got close. Alba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, she knew who you meant without needing to guess and she gasped. 

“He’s here? I thought the army left yesterday morning? Why has he come back?” 

“I don’t know, but he’s here and I need you in the room with me, and we need to make sure the servants don’t hear anything, come.” 

You smoothed your hands over your dress and then your hair. You were a tired mess after your sleepless night and with quick movements you pinched your cheeks to brighten your skin. As you stopped in the hall outside the reception room, Alba rearranged your dress and covered your hair. 

“I’ll tell the servants to leave, make sure no one comes in while he’s here,” you whispered to her and she gave you a quick nod. 

Marcus was standing in the middle of the room, studying the mosaic on one of the walls, his hands clasped behind his back. The dark fabric of his tunic strained across his wide shoulders underneath his armour, his sword belt hung low on his hip, he was dressed for travelling.

“General Acacius, what an honour to have you in our home,” you approached him with your head bowed and only glanced up when he turned to you. He bowed low in return and swept his cloak to the side. 

“I came to see your husband, but I hear he is away on business,” Marcus replied, “I have information for him, but I trust I can pass it on to you?” 

“Yes, of course, general,” you answered, hardly daring to meet his eyes as your mind reeled trying to figure out what information he might have for your husband. Marcus was fully in his official role, his voice commanding and curt, his hands still clasped behind his back as he stood straight, his eyes never wavering from you or betraying any emotion except a slight impatience at having to deal with the wife of the man he’d come to see. 

“Leave us,” you called to the two servants hovering at the edge of the room, “Alba, you stay, and pour us some wine.” 

The two household servants scurried out of the room and Alba served you both wine from the amphora that was always kept in the reception room for any visitor. You sat down on one of the sofas and Marcus sat down opposite. Alba placed the cups next to you and then retreated to the doorway of the room, close enough to see you, and stave off any accusations of being alone with a man, but far away enough for you to have a private conversation. 

“I apologise for turning up like this, without warning,” Marcus said, his voice suddenly softer, no longer bearing a stern edge as he leaned forward, his hand briefly landing on your leg, “I made up an excuse to keep the army camped here for another few days, I had to see you again.” 

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night, the very thought of you already being so far away from here…” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you saw how warmly he smiled at you.

“You’ve truly cast a spell on me, carrisime,” he whispered, moving to sit next to you on the sofa, his hand falling to your waist, and you leaned into him, the pull of him irresistible. 

“You’re lucky my husband was called away on business, he almost never leaves the house before noon,” you mumbled as Marcus leaned his head closer, his strong nose brushing over your cheek. 

“Yes, the gods are smiling at me,” he mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin as he captured your mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You felt yourself melt into him, his warm hand on your waist, bringing you closer, his other hand, large and calloused on your cheek, holding you in place as he nudged your lips apart, letting his tongue find yours. With a sigh you opened your mouth and let him take as much as he wanted, all other thoughts disappearing from your mind. Marcus groaned softly into you, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more heated, his hand slipping to your hip and tugging at you to come up into his lap. 

“Marcus, not here,” you protested, putting your palms against his solid chest plate, feeling the ridges of Medusa’s hair under your fingers. 

“Your servant girl won’t say anything, will she?” he asked, glancing over at Alba who was standing in the doorway with her back to you both. 

“No, but someone else might come,” you said, shaking your head as he took your hand and stood up. 

“Come, let’s find a more secluded spot then,” he smiled, pulling you to your feet. 

“Marcus, we can’t, it’s too risky,” you replied, but he only smiled wider and made you follow him, a firm grip on your hand as he winked at Alba and checked that the coast was clear. He hurried down the hallway and quickly turned a corner. Following the familiar layout of almost all Roman villas, he led you towards the thermae, the warmer air enveloping you as he pushed the door open. 

“No one will come in here until your husband is home,” he chuckled, pulling you inside as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “only you and me, my domina.” 

“Marcus…” you protested weakly, but he grinned with an almost boyish charm, a mischievous look in his eyes as he continued to walk you into the room, stopping only when the back of your legs came up against one of the two slabs of marble used for massages. With a swift motion, he lifted you up onto the flat surface and made room for himself between your legs. 

“I needed to see you before I left, and I need to make sure you’ll come to Rome,” he mumbled, pressing wet kisses to your neck as his hands began to caress your thighs, sliding up under your stola, “Will you come to Rome once I’m back there?” 

“How, Marcus?” you asked with a breathless moan, tilting your head back to make room for him as he nipped and licked at your skin. This was too dangerous, too exposed even in the thermae, but Marcus’s hands were kneading at your hips, grabbing at your behind as he rolled his hips into yours. The evidence of his arousal was pressing into your core and you could feel your own arousal building, liquid heat beginning to fill your cunt, “I can’t go on my own, my husband would never allow it.” 

“Then I’ll invite him, make up some reason,” he replied, his calloused hand leaving your hip and sliding up along the inside of your thigh as he spread you open, “Now, tell me, will you let me feel you come on my cock one more time? Is she ready for me, domina?” 

He tugged your undergarment loose and locked eyes with you, watching your face as he softly caressed his fingers through your wet folds with a low growl. The sensation forced all other thoughts from your head, Marcus’s dark eyes, his steady gaze on you, and the tremors that rushed through your body when he brushed over the apex of your sex, it turned you liquid and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. 

After that, it was all just Marcus, filling your senses, taking over as you yielded to him; his soft curls under your hands, the hard edges of his armour pressed against your chest, his deep rumbling voice as he mumbled against your lips. You whined in protest when he removed his hand from your wet folds, but then the thick head of his cock breached your entrance, making you keen and and moan as he filled you up, snapping his hips and driving himself deep inside your cunt. 

“Domina…” he growled, his pliant lips claiming your mouth between gasps of air and mumbled words, “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, the wine tastes like vinegar, ever since I met you…carrisime…I need you in Rome with me…” 

He was taking his time with you, his large hand warm across your back as he kept you where he needed you, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a few mumbled words as he slowly, meticulously, slid his cock in and out of your slick cunt, slowly building your orgasm with every thrust. 

A call from somewhere inside the villa made you snap your head up, turning towards the door, but Marcus’s hand found your jaw and he pulled you back to his mouth. 

“Stay with me, carrisime, let me feel you, so tight and wet for me, let me fuck you and fill you up just the way you like it.” 

He sped up a little, his hand sliding down between your legs and found your small pearl, swollen and aching for his attention. 

“Marcus,” you cried, gasping as he began circling his, sending white hot lightning bolts through your limbs, “Oh gods, Marcus…” 

You were being too loud, at the back of your mind you felt fear trickling down your spine, but Marcus edged you on, driving his thick cock through your heat, his fingers finding a rhythm that seemed to take your breath away as your head tipped back. 

“There it is, domina, such a tight little cunt for me, squeezing me so hard,” he growled, “let me hear how good I make you feel, let me fuck you like this every day for the rest of my life, make you mine, my domina.” 

His words made your mind buzz, his fingers, his cock making pleasure cloud your mind, taking over every sense. 

With a crash the door to the thermae burst open and you cried out with shock. Marcus drove himself into you again, growling loudly. In panic you scrambled to get away from him, pushing at his chest plate but it made no difference, he snapped his hips one more time, and turned his head to look at your husband.

“Wife!” Lunaris yelled from the doorway, his voice close to hysteria as you furiously pushed at Marcus, but it was like pushing a giant boulder, he wouldn’t budge. 

“Lunaris,” Marcus huffed, still looking at your husband, but his face was not the one of a man caught balls deep in another man’s wife. Instead he wore a face of triumphant satisfaction as he stilled his hips, “Come back a bit early from your business I see.” 

“Marcus,” you hissed, fear crawling up your throat, your voice breaking on the last syllable of his name. He didn’t look at you, but you felt his hand on your back begin to caress you gently, a small, calming motion with his warm hand, out of sight from Lunaris. 

Lunaris seemed to stumble into the room, and you saw Alba’s wide eyed face behind him, her mouth hanging open in shock. Lunaris was hissing, grabbing onto one of the pillars as if for support, as he glowered at Marcus, struggling to spit any words out.

Marcus gently squeezed your hip and finally pulled out, adjusting his armour, the pteruges falling back in place as he turned fully to Lunaris who still looked as if he was choking on his own tongue. Behind Marcus’s back you scrambled to adjust your stola and slide off the marble slab. You moved to leave, but his hand shot out, taking your arm and pulling you to his side. 

“You know who I am, Lunaris, and I want your wife. Divorce her, free her from this miserable marriage you’ve imprisoned her in. And if it’s her will, let her come to Rome with me.” 

Marcus's voice cut through the haze of the thermae, through Lunaris pathetic stuttering, his tone commanding and sharp. From the corner of your eye you could see his jaw tighten, his eyes simmering with barely contained contempt for your husband, who was still struggling to catch up to the events of the past minute. 

“Di-divorce her?” he sputtered out, finally finding his voice again, “I’ll have her killed, tell her father what she’s done and have her killed for the shame she’s brought upon his house! Whore!” 

The last word he yelled at you, spit flying from his mouth as he rushed forward, raising his hand to strike you, but Marcus caught his hand and shoved him away. 

“You will not touch her again,” he growled, glaring down at Lunaris, pulling himself up to his full height, “She is no longer yours to command. Divorce her and I will refrain from breaking every bone in your body.”  

The sight of the Roman general in full armour, eyes black with cold fury, seemed to pull Lunaris out of his outrage, stumbling over his feet and his back hitting the marble pillar again. 

“I have witnesses!” he yelled, “Alba, you saw it all! Guards!” Lunaris screamed the last word over his shoulder. 

You looked at Alba, her hand over mouth in shock as she met your eyes, and you shook your head, willing her to back away and not be pulled into this disaster. Your heart filled with fear when she instead stepped into the room and shook her head at Lunaris. 

“I saw nothing, I’ve only seen the domina speaking with the general, he came to the villa looking for you, dominus.” 

“Liar!” Lunaris screamed, launching himself at her just as four of the household guards rushed into the room. He pulled up short at the sight of them, and Alba scrambled out of his way, seeking shelter behind the guards. Lunaris snarled at her and turned to Marcus, pointing an accusing finger at him and opening his mouth to shout something, but Marcus beat him to it. 

“Lunaris!” he snapped, his voice commanding attention, “Think very carefully about my offer, and what I have the power to do,” his voice was a warning, as was his very rank, a general of Rome compared to a small-time business man in a provincial town, far from the power of the capital, “Consider the consequences before you make any decision.” 

Marcus gave your arm a quick squeeze of his hand before he let it go and stepped forward to Lunaris, dropping his voice to a low, dangerous register. 

“I will leave now, but I will come back for what is mine, and I warn you to not do any harm while I’m away.” 

He spun on his heel to face you, giving you a sharp bow, before he turned and strode to the door. The guards, seeing his armour and status, stepped to the side and let him leave unchallenged while Lunaris seethed, glaring at you. 

The thermae was silent while Marcus’s footsteps echoed away through the hallway and fear crept into your body at the look on Lunaris’ face. Marcus had warned him against hurting you, but you didn’t trust Lunaris, or your father. Your honour was tied to your father’s family honour, if Lunaris told your father about Marcus, he had the right to punish you, even put you to death. But he could also throw you from the family, remove your family name and doom you to a life of poverty or enslavement. You’d be worth nothing, even Marcus, with all his glory for Rome, wouldn’t be able to take you in if your father disowned you. 

“Leave us!” Lunaris finally snapped, dismissing the guards with a wave, “You too, you lying little bitch, I’ll deal with you later,” he snarled at Alba who threw you a terrified look before hurrying out of the room. 

You kept your eyes on your feet as the guards shuffled out and the door closed behind Alba. Lunaris was staring at their retreating backs before he rounded on you and grabbed your wrist, his fingers digging into your bones. You tried to pull away but he shoved you backwards, pushing you against the marble slab, still with a hard grip on your arm. 

“You fucking whore, I should’ve known, opening your legs for a general at the first chance. You and your father were always clambering for you to marry a powerful man. Your father practically threw you at me, for all the good it’s done me, no children, no business deals, just a frigid dry cunt,” he spat out, his putrid breath washing over you as he put himself in your face, the sharp marble edge digging into your back, “But now you’ve found a fucking general, that makes you wet, huh?” 

He shoved his hand down, trying to grab between your legs, and you squirmed out of his way. 

“I’ll tell Acacius!” you cried out, “If you touch me, I’ll tell him!”

“Oh, you think you have the protection of the mighty general now do you?” Lunaris snarled, “Think he’ll come running to save your virtue after you’ve let him fuck you like one of the camp whores?” He pushed his knee between your thighs, forcing you to part your legs and he grabbed your sex over the stola with a rough hand, “You’re just another warm cunt to pass his time with, he’ll forget about you once he’s back in his favourite whore house in Rome,” Lunaris grimaced in distaste and shoved you to the side, making you stumble before you caught yourself against the wall, “Pathetic woman, don’t you know he can have any woman in Rome, they’ll be throwing their youngest and most beautiful daughters at him when he returns. What’s he going to do with an old, withered up whore like you?” 

Lunaris was sneering at you as you backed up, pressing yourself against the damp mosaic wall, “I have half a mind to throw you out on the street right now,” he spat, “but he won’t get away that easily.” 

He looked at you for a few moments, you could see the cogs of his slow brain turning as he went over his options. You knew him well enough to know that Marcus’ threat had scared him, but you also knew he’d try to turn it against him somehow. You wished you could warn Marcus even though he must know Lunaris would try to get back at him.  

“Guards!” Lunaris suddenly yelled, his eyes still locked on you as the sound of clattering caligae could be heard out in the hallway. 

“Take the domina to her room and post a guard outside. She’s not allowed to leave under any circumstances.” 

Left in your room without Alba, the rest of the day and the night moved at a snail’s pace. You paced back and forth, trying to listen to the noises of the villa to decipher what was going on. Lunaris left, but when you tried to sneak from your room, the guard ordered you inside and made no secret of what measures Lunaris had told him to use. By the time you fell into an uneasy sleep, most of the night had already passed. 

The dreams that rushed in and out of your angstful mind were frightening, you tossed and twisted in your sheets as Marcus turned his back on you, time and time again as you ran after him. In your dreams he marched away from your husband’s villa without as much as a glance at you, Lunaris cackled as he shut the door behind your back. As you ran after Marcus, the army stretched out, an endless line of marching soldiers with impassive faces, filing past you as Marcus disappeared over the horizon. The soldiers kept marching through your dreams, a never ending clatter of caligae on the paving stones, and when you woke, heavy rain was falling outside, rattling the roof tiles. 

A servant had left you dinner the day before, and now they returned with breakfast. You forced yourself to eat a little and then slumped back onto your bed, waiting for whatever Lunaris would do next. You knew he was plotting and planning something and he didn’t disappoint, just before dinner he came to your room, a triumphant look on his face. 

“So, wife, it turns out your whoring might actually have done some good,” he gloated, practically prancing around your room as you stood by the bed, watching him with weary eyes, “First bit of good that cunt of yours has ever given me.” 

He grinned and rubbed his hands together, chuckling at his own joke as you winced at the way his facade had fallen. He’d never been a pleasant man, but out of fear of your father, he’d still treated you with respect, even when you didn’t give him any children. Not that you knew how his infrequent visits to your bedroom or his pitiful rubbing against you would ever produce a child. Too late for all of that now anyway. Now he was gloating, gleeful in your downfall and inwardly you cursed yourself for letting yourself give in to Marcus in such a public place. 

“I’ve been to see your ‘lover’,” he grinned even though the word came out with contempt, “told him he can puff himself up all he wants, when word gets out that he’s been fucking a married woman, no amount of glory on the battlefield will save him, the law’s the law and I’ll have half his property,” Lunaris smirked at you with a greedy look in his eyes, “I hear his villa in Rome is on the Palatine and the grandest one seen in a century.” 

“What did you do?” you asked with trepidation and Lunaris’s eyes shone with malice as he rubbed his hands. 

“He’s giving me his villa, and a hefty bag of gold as soon as he’s back in Rome, and in return, I won’t tell the Senate about him fucking a married woman and I won’t tell your father. I’ve given orders to pack up the house, we’re leaving tomorrow and the household will follow in a week.” 

You stared at Lunaris, the grin on his face flaunting his glee at what he’d blackmailed the mighty general into giving him. 

“Finally, some real status!” he crowed, “Might even try to get into the Senate with Acacius’ money, and I’ll need a new wife of course,” he smirked at you again, “something young and pretty with a wet cunt to give me sons.”

He chuckled and turned to leave the room, but changed his mind as he got to the door. 

“Do you know what the best thing about the whole deal is?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he continued, “It’s that you won’t even get him, I’m keeping you!” Lunaris winked at you with a malicious glint in his eye, “I don’t tell the Senate, he gives me money and the villa, and I get to keep you. Because after all that, he doesn’t even want you.” 

You felt your throat close up, tightening when tears threatened to rise in your eyes as Lunaris cackled with delight, “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of, the new villa will need plenty of slaves.” 

And with that, Lunaris left the room, shutting the door tight. Through it you could hear his instructions to the guard to not let you leave. Frozen to the spot you squeezed your eyes shut, breathing hard through your nose as bile rose in your throat. The sharp burning jerked you into motion, with a gasp you fell to your knees and emptied the day's food into the pot, retching as it tore through your body. 

You had to stay in Lunaris’s household, Marcus had given you up, given in to your husband’s blackmail to preserve his own status and honour, and he’d given you up to protect himself without a thought at what you’d suffer for it. You’d staved off the tears for the past two days, but now they overwhelmed you, grief tore at your heart as you curled up on the bed, sobs shaking your frame at the unfairness of it all. 

You felt, and probably looked, like a husk of your former self as the carriage left the villa the next day. Your cosmetae had applied some colour to your cheeks and hollow eyes, but it couldn’t hide the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror. Eyes red rimmed from crying, your lips chapped and broken as you continued to chew on them, and most of all, the haunted look that made the slaves look away from you as you walked through the villa one final time. 

As you were still Lunaris’ wife, and no one knew what had happened between you and Marcus, you rode in Lunaris' carriage. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands as Lunaris continued to brag about how glorious his new life would be, the long road to Rome stretching before you. He would gloat and crow the whole way, you were sure of it. Alba sat in the seat across from you, her gaze mostly on her hands, but every now and then she’d throw a quick look at you. Her eyes were as worried as yours, but you didn’t know what fate awaited her when you got to Rome. Lunaris hadn’t said and you hadn’t had a chance to talk to her in private. 

It was a five day journey to Rome, and the wide, paved Roman road made travelling easy. The death of emperor Marcus Aurelius almost thirty years ago meant Pax Romana had ended and travel was more perilous now than before, but this close to the very heart of the empire, not much threatened those who travelled with armed guards. The clatter of the guards’ horses in front and behind the two carriages lulled you into a numb stupor as the winter bare landscape slipped past. 

On the third day you stared listlessly out through the small gap in the shutters of the carriage door, Lunaris had finally grown bored of taunting you and slipped into a slumber, his head lolling back and forth on his weedy shoulders. 

“Will General Acacius come for you when we get to Rome?” Alba whispered, glancing anxiously at Lunaris who slept lightly. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever see the general again,” you replied in a low voice without turning to look at her, “he’s given in to Lunaris’ blackmail to save his own skin.” 

“I can’t believe he’d do that, not when-”  

Her word was cut short by the loud thump of something striking the carriage door hard. You both looked up at the source of the sound and gasped as you saw a vicious looking arrowhead poking through just a mere handswidth from your head. 

“Bandits!” one of the guards roared, “form up, protect the carriages!”

Lunaris jerked awake and whipped his head around as if he could see through the carriage walls as the sounds of battle grew loud outside. You put your hands out for Alba and pulled her to your side, wrapping your arms around her as you sank down to the floor, covering both your heads with your hands. She was sobbing against you as metal hit metal and men screamed outside. It felt like it went on forever but in reality, it was over in a few minutes, someone cried out in agony and then their voice was suddenly silenced, replaced by only the sounds of footsteps outside. The door of the carriage was thrown open and a rough looking man, a vicious cut over his nose, looked in. Glancing over the three of you, he grabbed Lunaris and yanked him out. Lunaris yelled in fright, but he was helpless against the bandit who threw him onto the rough stones. 

A second man leaned in and grinned, his hand shooting out, snatching at your hair and dragging you out too. You cried out in pain and fear, tumbling through the carriage door, the rough hold on your hair making your scalp sting. The man didn’t throw you to the ground, instead he grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back, holding you tight as you faced the rest of the bandits. There were only three, but your husband’s four guards lay dead on the road side. The two drivers had their hands over their heads, clearly not prepared to die in defending property that wasn’t their own. 

“You owe a debt to Asinius Magnus,” the first bandit told Lunaris who’d been forced to kneel on the road, his neck exposed with the bandit behind him, a long blade in his hand. “Consider it paid in full.” 

You turned your head, but you couldn’t shut out the gasp Lunaris let out as the blade sliced open his throat or the gargling of the blood rushing forth. His body made a dull thump as it fell to the ground. 

“Search both carriages, take what valuables you can find, but be quick!” the bandit’s leader called, “We leave the bodies.”

The one holding you yanked your arms, “What about the girls? Spoils of war?” 

“The older one is not to be touched,” his companion answered, “but take the other one if you want to keep your bed warm.” 

“No! Don’t touch her!” you protested, struggling against the man holding you as he began to wrestle you back towards the carriage. You could see Alba’s terrified face inside, you were determined to not let them take her.

“Run!” you yelled at her, kicking back at the man behind you, your foot miraculously connecting with his shin and he lost his balance. Alba jumped out of the carriage and ran, but the third bandit was right behind her. 

“Fucking bitch, get her!” the leader yelled as the one holding you grabbed your arm and pulled you around. His fist connected with your face and you saw stars as white hot pain shot through your head. Losing your footing, you sank to the ground, head spinning. You heard Alba cry out in fear and a voice yelled.

“Shoot!!” 

The thump of an arrow hitting its mark reached your ears, but you couldn’t lift your head to look for Alba, black dots were dancing in your vision. More voices yelled, some in fear, and again the sounds of battle erupted around you, but just as quickly died down. You could hear the clatter of rain against the roof tiles, dark clouds suddenly forming in your vision, and a warm quilt being pulled over you. The ground fell away beneath you, you were floating under your blanket, or maybe wrapped in it, as the rain clattered. 

“Carrisime, open your eyes,” the low voice demanded in a soft tone, “Come on, look at me now, wake up.” 

The voice was familiar and you could feel his hands gently patting your cheek, rousing your foggy mind.

“Vita mea, I’m here, you’re safe, just open your eyes.” 

With an herculean effort you peeled your eyes open and Marcus’ face floated into focus. 

“There you go, just look at me, carrisime,” he said, his hand stroking your cheek, “you’re safe now.” 

It took you a few more moments to realise that you weren’t floating and it wasn’t raining. Marcus was cradling you in his arms, his thick cloak wrapped around you, as the clatter of soldier’s caligae against the paving stones brought the events of the past few minutes flooding back. 

“Alba…” you croaked, trying to look for her, but Marcus tightened his arms around you.

“She’s unharmed, just a scrape on her knees when she fell over, she’s being taken care of,” he touched his fingertips gently to the part of your cheek that was throbbing, “Do you think you can ride in the carriage with me? I won’t let you out of my sight.” 

You nodded, still uncertain about what had actually happened, and Marcus gently put you on your feet, his arms keeping you steady. He gave sharp orders and the small company of soldiers were back in their saddles, as Marcus joined you and Alba in the carriage. What had happened to the body of your husband you didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. 

Alba looked stunned and dazed, and you guessed you looked no better, but Marcus commandeered a cloak from one of his soldiers for her, and kept his own wrapped around you. When the carriage began to roll with a jerk, he tightened his hold on you and you gratefully leaned against him. Your body felt loose, your limbs all watery, and you gratefully accepted his warmth and solid frame to hold you up. He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and you felt his hand slowly caress your arm. 

“What happened?” Alba asked, her voice low and uncertain as she looked from you to Marcus and back again. He regarded her for a moment before he glanced down at you. 

“What I tell you can go no further than this carriage,” he said, “If anyone finds out, all our lives are in danger, understood?” 

You nodded and so did Alba, her eyes wide. 

“I’m telling you because I don’t want to start our new lives with dishonesty, but no one else can know.” 

You nodded again and Marcus gave you a small smile, “At least I hope you want to start a new life with me, carrisime?” He touched your cheek gently, “I never had an opportunity to ask you properly, your husband was more devious than I thought.” 

“I do, Marcus,” your voice barely above a whisper, reaching up to place your hand over his as he smiled down at you, “I’ve never wanted anything else so much in life.” 

“How fortunate for me,” Marcus said with a tender voice, placing another kiss to the top of your head, “then I’ll tell you.” 

He drew a deep breath and looked over at Alba again, “I’m sorry you got pulled into this too, I never meant for you to be harmed. But Lunaris guessed that you knew too, and that made him vindictive. He came to see me, and threatened to have you both killed if I didn’t promise him the riches and status he craved. I was hoping he’d divorce you and let you leave his house, free to marry again, but he was determined to have more and ruin me in the process. Had I given in to him, he would’ve held the threat over me, all of us, for the rest of our lives.” 

“You had him killed,” you breathed out, the realisation dawning on you. Why else would Marcus and his soldiers show up just after the bandits had killed Lunaris. 

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but it was his life or yours, and he was worth nothing to me,” Marcus looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I had no choice, but I don’t know if you can forgive me.” 

“He told me you’d given me up, that you’d given in to his blackmail and that I was to stay with him because you didn’t want me,” you said, anger rising inside you as you remembered the malicious things Lunaris had told you, the lies he’d made you believe, “He told me he’d keep me as a slave in his new villa while he got a young, new wife. Pluto can have him!” you spat out, and you felt Marcus’s arms tighten around you. 

“Hush, carissime,” he said, “calm yourself, it’s behind us.” 

“You sent the bandits?” Alba asked, “They were going to…” she trailed off as tears rose in her eyes. Marcus leaned over and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be travelling too, please don’t cry, puella.” 

Alba dried her tears and nodded, wrapping her borrowed cloak tighter around herself and you leaned back against Marcus’s solid chest. He let go of Alba’s hand and cradled your cheek in his large palm, softly stroking his thumb over the swollen part. 

“Does it hurt, carissime?” he asked quietly and you nodded, “I’m sorry it happened, I told them to not touch you. I saw no other way out, I couldn’t kill him myself, I couldn’t let one of  my soldiers do it. So I hired the bandits to attack and kill Lunaris and any guards, I was hoping he’d travel without you. I feel like maybe I took too great a risk.”

“I was scared,” you whispered, “I thought they’d rape and kill us, or sell us,” you squeezed your eyes shut at the thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Marcus mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Forgive me, carrisime.” 

You nodded, “I do, even dying would’ve been a preferable fate to serving as a slave in Lunaris’ new household. You’ve saved my life, both our lives.”  

You both fell silent for a while, the rocking of the carriage lulling Alba to sleep, curled up under the cloak on the seat opposite. You stayed tucked under Marcus’s arm as he slowly caressed you, bending his head now and then to press a kiss to your head. 

After a few miles had been covered you stirred and looked up at him. 

“You let Lunaris catch us in the thermae, why?” 

“I know his type, he never would have agreed to divorce you, especially not for a man so much more powerful than him. So I needed to let him catch us in the act so that I could scare him, threaten him into giving you up,” Marcus shook his head as he seemed to think through the events of the past few days, “But I misjudged him, he really was stupid enough to think he could blackmail me. Even if I’d given in to his blackmail, did he think no one would ask any questions when I handed over my villa to him? Or when he tried to buy his way into the Senate? I’m sorry I had to have him killed, but I’m not sorry to see him gone,” Marcus shrugged and adjusted his arm around you, making you lean your head against his shoulder, “Sleep, carrisime, I’ve arranged for us to stay at an inn tonight, but we have many more miles to travel first.” 

Sleep didn’t come easy, even though you closed your eyes and tried to let the carriage’s rumbling motions lull you. You understood why Marcus had done what he’d done, his logic was solid. Kill Lunaris or lose you and everything in his life. And Lunaris was nothing to him, just an annoying, vindictive little man, it didn’t matter to Marcus if he died. But still you felt like you’d seen a new side of him, the ruthless Roman general, the man who had led armies to great victories because he was just that ruthless. 

You knew, rationally, that Marcus had killed many men, and had even more men killed. Both enemy soldiers and civilians, but also his own soldiers, as he sent them into battle. It was the nature of his profession. But now he’d done it to get his way, to get you, not as part of a war. He’d saved you, both from a boring marriage when he first turned up, and from Lunaris’ spiteful revenge on you after your infidelity. But your actions, both yours and Marcus’, had led to men dying. Your intense feelings for Marcus, the need you had to be near him, ultimately had cost the lives of your husband, stupid as he was for blackmailing a Roman general. But it had also cost the lives of four guards and three bandits. Eight men dead. All because you and Marcus wanted to be together. 

The thought reeled around your head. Eight new men with Pluto tonight because a Roman general had stumbled into your house on Bona Dea. Was this the will of the gods? Or would you be punished? A shiver ran through you, and Marcus bent down, brushing his lips over your cheek. 

“Vita mea, tell me your thoughts,” he mumbled. 

“I’m…grateful you saved me, and Alba,” you whispered, tilting your head back to meet his dark yes, “But I’m worried we’ve angered the gods through our actions. So many men killed because of you and me.”

“I would never presume to know the will of the gods,” he replied, keeping his voice low, “but I know Mars steers my hand in battle and he hasn’t failed me yet, not even today. But we’ll make sacrifices to the gods when we return to Rome, show them our gratitude for bringing us together and keeping you and Alba safe. I don’t believe Juno would want either of you trapped with that vicious man.” 

He bent his head low and tenderly kissed your lips, his warm hand cupping your cheek, “And I know Bona Dea guided my steps when she first led me to your villa, we will give special thanks to her too. Now sleep, amor, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Part 4 Tagging some lovely people who showered the first two parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0

[mycountryromance]

Villa in tuscany- first exterior impressions 🤍

[scotianostra]

On February 1st 1918 the author of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Spark was born in Edinburgh.

Spark did not publish her first novel until she was almost 40, but she quickly gained admirers for her taut, comically disturbing works that often depicted odd, malevolent forces insinuating their way into the lives of ordinary people. She was best known for "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie," her 1961 novel about a charismatic schoolmistress.

Originally Muriel Sarah Camberg, she attended the James Gillespie's High School for Girls. There she met educator Christina Kay who became the inspiration for one of Spark's most famous characters.

At the age of 19, she married Sydney Oswald "Ossie" Spark. The couple sailed to Africa soon after they wed. The union proved to be a brief and turbulent one. She had a son, Robin, with her husband before the pair split up. For a time, Spark supported herself doing odd jobs. She returned home during World War II, leaving her son in Africa in the care of some nuns.

Back home, Spark became involved in London's literary world. She served as editor of the Poetry Review from 1947 to 1949, and published poetry, short stories and critical biographies of figures like William Wordsworth, Mary Shelley and Emily Brontë. In the 1950s, Spark suffered a nervous breakdown and converted to Catholicism. Her first novel, The Comforters in 1957, earned critical acclaim from such established British writers as Graham Greene and Evelyn Waugh.

While she largely considered herself a poet, Spark built up an impressive career for herself as a novelist. After The Comforters, two more novels soon followed —Memento Mori and The Ballad of Peckham Rye . But it was her tale of a teacher at a girls school that really brought her widespread commercial success. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie became a best seller when it was published in 1961. The book began the basis of a successful London play starring Vanessa Redgrave in 1964. This production later moved to Broadway with Zoe Caldwell as the title character. In 1969, Maggie Smith starred in the film version, which earned Smith an Academy Award for best actress.

By the end of the 1960s, Spark moved to Italy. She lived in Rome for many years. There Spark met artist Penelope Jardine. The pair became inseparable, eventually setting up house together in Tuscany. Jardine acted as Spark's aide and companion. While some have speculated that their relationship was a romantic one, Spark told reporters that it was an "old-fashioned friendship," according to The New York Times.

As her career progressed, Spark continued to explore both the dark and light sides of life in her work. Not everyone knew what to do with this odd balance of the comic and tragic. Scottish writer, Allan Massie (Who I met several times at a writers workshop when at school) described her as "a comic writer with a sense of evil, a metaphysical in all sense of that difficult word" in the Spectator. Another critic for New Criterion wrote that "what first seems like caricature often passes, on closer reading, as unvarnished reportage."

Spark turned her mighty pen on her own life with the 1992 memoir Curriculum Vitae. In 2004, Spark published The Finishing School, which proved to be her final novel.

Muriel Spark died, aged 88, on April 13,th 2006, in Florence, Italy and is buried in the cemetery of Sant'Andrea Apostolo in Oliveto.

[kiwiana-writes]

mj my dearly beloved 🥝 please provide me with your top 3 favourite foods and your least favourite fruit and vegetable

Oh lord, a thinker from Lola on a Saturday morning 😅

I'm the cook in my household, I am a HUGE food as a love languages motherfucker, so this top three is, like, a balance of love to cook/love to eat:

Lasagne. I make a fucking MEAN lasagne and when I was in Tuscany I got the tip to soak the mince in red wine for ~24 hours before cooking which was a fucking EXCELLENT piece of advice.

Chipotle enchiladas. A super quick post-D&D meal if I've been marinating the chicken before we start playing but fucking delicious.

Butter chicken pie. This is my 'I wanna impress you' recipe lmao. It's absolutely fucking divine and super easy to make!

Least favourite fruit: Not to be, like, Mentally Ill On Main or whatever but I cannot eat fruit where you have to eat the seeds? Apples/pears/etc are fine, but anything where you pretty much have to eat the seeds e.g. strawberries is a huge nope. However there's a lot of those fruits where I really love the flavour, I just can't eat the fruit itself. So in terms of a fruit I hate the flavour of as well... probably rockmelon/cantaloupe? It's just Not A Vibe

Least favourite vegetable: I originally said broccoli here, because the texture is the worst, but then I realised if it was drowned in ENOUGH cheese or something I might bring myself to eat it. Pumpkin, however, is a huge fucking nope no matter what it's hidden in.