You suffer from melancholia, and can't bring yourself to get out of bed. Commodus understands, and comes to comfort you.
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Your eyes focused and unfocused. The spot on the wall had looked the same for the last couple hours, aside from a spot of sunlight that had moved slowly as the day went by. Now, the room was filled with orange light, the sun setting below the horizon. You sighed, closing your eyes, and curled further in on yourself.
You couldn't explain your feelings of emptiness, but you knew it had always been there. On the edge of your mind, a curtain waiting to fall over any rational or joyful thought. Sometimes, you could keep it at bay. Other times, it consumed you.
You felt disgusting. You had not bathed for weeks, and your hair was shiny with grease. Your sheets smelled of sweat, and the imprint of your body was bent into the bed from laying there so long. You sighed, hating yourself but not having the energy to get up. You tried to just sleep, welcoming the warm embrace of oblivion.
You didn't know quite when you fell asleep, but you were woken up by the sound of the door opening and closing. The sun had set, and the sky was purple and littered with stars. You heard Commodus shuffle around the room, taking off his armor and getting into bedclothes.
A warm hand pressed against your back, and you smelled the olive and rose oils that Commodus loved. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you rolled onto your other side to face him. He smiled down at you, pulling your head into his lap.
“How are you feeling, my love?” He whispered, running his hands through your hair. You sighed, squishing your cheek against his thigh.
“Not good,” you said softly, trying to conjure words for what you felt. You felt like you had swallowed a boulder, yet at the same time you were starving. Heaviness made your limbs ache, and your mind felt rotted, self-deprecating thoughts eating away at you like maggots.
Commodus sighed, and helped you to sit up so your back was pressed against his front. He brought a goblet of sweet wine to your lips, letting you wet your parched throat. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were until now. The honeyed taste of the wine delighted and warmed you, from the tip of your tongue down your throat, blooming in your chest.
“I love you,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. He left soft kisses on your cheek, jaw, down to your shoulder. His arms were wrapped securely around you, and the comforting pressure from his embrace helped to lessen the emptiness eating away at your ribcage.
“I love you too,” you whispered, barely audible. Your voice cracked, and you began to cry. Commodus was so kind, so gentle, and you felt so disgusting. Emotions overwhelmed you, and salty tears dripped down your face. Commodus’ arms tightened around you, and he murmured sweet nothings while you cried.
After a while, your breathing settled. Commodus wiped the remains of the tears from your face, his thumb stroking your cheek comfortingly. You leaned against him, exhausted.
“It's alright now, sweet thing,” he murmured. “I'm here now. You don't have to be alone.”
He reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed a platter of your favorite dried fruits. He fed you small pieces, pressing the fruit against your lips so you could take them. The familiar taste felt like sparks across your tongue and in your heart, the food helping to quell your destructive thoughts.
As you ate slowly, letting your husband feed you, you began to feel a bit better. With your belly full of food, your thirst quenched, and your loved one nearby, your feelings became less suffocating. You brought Commodus’ palm to your lips, giving him a grateful kiss.
“Thank you,” You whispered against his skin.
“Always,” He replied. “No matter what, I'll help you feel better. One day, everything will be okay. I promise.”
an: I hope you enjoyed! If you liked this, let me know! I love hearing what people think of my work!!
You stood at the side of the table as he signed warrants. He passed the parchment to his men, and with one flick of his hand they were dismissed.
Without a word, he stood and walked towards you. He placed his arms around you and pulled you into a strong embrace. You sighed into him, your delicate fingers finding their way through his dark locks. He murmured in pleasure at the sensation. You stayed there holding one another for a few moments more.
Pulling away reluctantly, he placed his hands either side of your face. His eyes bore into your soul. He closed his eyes as he placed a kiss on your forehead, full of devotion.
Without a word, he returned to sit behind his large, dark, opulent desk. He returned to his papers. You couldn’t help but grin.
“You called me here to hug you?” You smiled at him warmly.
“Yes.” His eyes flicked up from his papers briefly. His smile was mischievous. “You deliver spectacular hugs.” He pointed to the space directly in front of his desk. You walked to it. He leaned over the desk. “And that, my beautiful Y/N, is why I married you.”
You kissed one another deeply.
You placed a loving hand on the side of his face, his soft skin warm under your touch. “Don’t work too late, dear Caesar.”
Your husband Commodus has a headache, so you help him feel better.
masterlist
Commodus’ head throbbed in time with his heart, a hammer against his skull. He rubbed his forehead, trying to alleviate the ache. The senators droned on and on, his headache worsening with each hour that passed.
“The plague continues to spread,” said senator Falco. “None of our previous ideas have worked. Caesar, do you have any suggestions?”
Commodus looked up, the movement coming with a stab of pain. He winced, finding that all eyes were on him. Some looked concerned, others looked judgemental, most just looked bored.
“Have we tried altering the water supply to give cleaner water?” He suggested, trying to sound like he was in control. If a simple headache threw him off this much, how could he lead?
“We discussed that already,” Gaius said, his tone clipped and frustrated. Commodus sighed, pressing both palms against his temples. Gods, he needed to get out of there.
“Perhaps the meeting should be adjourned,” one of the senators suggested. “The emperor seems…unwell.”
“I am fine,” Commodus snapped, standing. His head ached, the pain spreading across his head and down the nape of his neck. Still, he would not let it show how much it bothered him. So, for three more hours, Commodus discussed the plague with the senators.
As soon as the meeting adjourned, Commodus fell into his chair. He put his head on his desk and covered his head with his arms, blocking out the light. He wanted to shut everything out, as if he could hide from the pain which insisted on finding him.
You walked into the courtroom, searching for your husband. You hadn't seen Commodus all day, which was unusual. He sought you out when he was done with meetings, seeking comfort in your presence. You had decided to look for him, assuming he was busy with other things.
You saw him hunched over his desk, looking like he was sleeping. He was still dressed in his armor, a crown of laurels nestled in his dark curls. You put your hand on the back of his neck, whispering his name.
“Commodus, my love,” you murmured “Are you awake?”
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes squinted to little slits. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you, a pained sadness evident on his face.
“Are you alright?” you asked, kneeling down to his level. He shook his head, wincing.
“My head hurts,” he said, sighing. You nodded, understanding. Commodus was prone to pushing himself to the very brink, going days without sleep or proper food. His paranoia also prevented him from resting, and he was always on edge. It was no surprise his body was starting to show the signs of his unrest.
“Come,” you said, standing and taking his hand. “Let me help you.”
Commodus took your hand and followed you as you led him to the baths. The water was warm and the room was full of steam, light from the setting sun shining through the high windows.
You began to take off Commodus’ armor, relieving him of the heavy material. He sighed as you undressed him completely, and you pressed kisses to his shoulders and the back of his neck.
You made him sit in the water, and you sat behind him on the edge of the tub. The water was scented with rose petals, and bubbles of oil shone on the surface, softening his skin. He rested between your knees, and you slowly helped him relax.
You took a cup and filled it with warm water, tipping his head back and pouring it in his hair. You rubbed sweet-smelling soap into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. Commodus let out a contented sigh, his eyes fluttering closed.
You poured warm water over the back of his neck and the top of his shoulders. You rubbed soap into his skin, paying special attention to loosening the tension held at the nape of his neck. Your hands worked against the hard muscle, and you felt Commodus turning to putty beneath you.
“Feel better?” You asked, kissing the top of his head. Commodus nodded, sliding into the water. He floated on his back in the tub, enjoying the feeling of being warm and relaxed, his headache slowly fading.
You joined him in the tub, pulling him into your lap. He pressed his face against your neck, wrapping his arms around you.
“You're magical,” he whispered, smiling at you. You ran your hand through his wet locks, bringing his lips to yours.
“I love you, too,” you murmured.
an: if you liked this, let me know!! I love seeing what people think of my work:)
Hey ! first I love your writing! I was wondering, do you also take request for the Abbe de Coulmier?
Anyway, I got a request I hope will interest you! I was thinking of a comfort fic, reader is feeling down or just tired and Commodus distract you, makes you laugh even, something all soft T_T
Thank you in advance
First of all, thank you so much for this ask and your sweet words!!
I do take requests for Abbe, and just recently finished my first fic with him. As for your request, I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy!!
Sweet Distractions - Commodus x Reader
Reader is drowning in their duties, exhausted from everyone always needing something from them, and feeling like they're alone in their struggles. Commodus finds them breaking down in a hidden corner of the palace and helps to comfort them.
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“If you could just take a look at these proposals,” Gracchus insists, holding out a thick scroll. You nod, a forced smile on your face, taking the scroll from him and placing it with the growing pile of tasks on your desk.
You sigh as he walks off, dipping your quill in ink and beginning to read through the mountain of things that need your attention. You had taken up more responsibility for Rome since marrying Commodus, wanting to help take some of the weight off his shoulders. You’re finding, however, that the weight is quickly becoming too much to bear and you're beginning to stumble beneath your tasks.
Of course, you could always tell Commodus you're struggling. But you worry that if you do, you'll be putting more stress onto Commodus, and the last thing you want is to hurt him or cause him any pain. You certainly don't want him to feel the way you're feeling, like you're drowning in papers and quills. So, you put on a brave face and throw yourself into the work.
“Excuse me,” a servant knocks on your door, and you look up in acknowledgement. “Sorry to bother you, but your presence is needed in the courtroom.”
You sigh and nod, a smile on your face. You follow the servant into the courtroom, mentally preparing yourself for hours of droning debate before you would be allowed to return to your work.
“No, you don't understand!!” Heated yells can be heard from down the hall, and you groan to yourself. The last thing you want is to have to mediate a bunch of grown men.
“Senators,” you say placidly as you enter the room. “What seems to be the matter?”
“Oh thank god,” Gaius hurries over to you, placing a scroll in your hands. “These neanderthals are endlessly arguing, and your voice is needed now more than ever.”
“Oh yes,” Falco drawls cynically. “Let some uppity, inexperienced fool decide what's best for Rome. Surely that will end well.”
Falco's comment hurts more than you care to admit, but you square your shoulders and step into the center of the room.
“Well,” you say determinedly. “What can I do to help?”
And so began hours of yelling, arguing, and moderating. You were no closer to achieving a resolution, but you had had enough.
“We are done!” You finally shouted, storming out of the room. Silence echoes behind you, and you walk as fast as you can through the halls. You don't know where you're going, but you have to find somewhere to hide before you start to cry. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and your breath begins to hitch in your throat.
You slide into a crevice in the wall, hidden behind a statue of Venus, her kind face seeming to keep you safe from any prying eyes. You put your face in your hands and begin to sob, your shoulders shaking. All your stress pours out of you in salty tears and hiccupy breaths.
You don't notice someone else is there until he sits down right in front of you, startling you. Commodus takes your hand, kissing your palm and drawing you into his lap. He doesn't say anything, just lets you cry into his shoulder as he runs his hands through your hair softly.
“What's wrong, my love?” He murmurs once you've calmed down a bit. You shrug, sniffling. Suddenly all your energy is gone, and you rest your head against him, your shoulders slumping.
“I am certain you don't just come to cry here out of boredom,” He teases lightly, scratching at your scalp. “Would you like to talk about it?”
You shake your head, not wanting to cause him any more problems. He nods, understanding. Instead of speaking, he presses soft kisses to your cheeks, wiping away your tears. Then, he takes your hands in his and kisses your palms, your knuckles, your fingertips. Warmth blooms in your chest at his gentle kindness.
“Did you hear about the monkey that wandered into the palace this morning?” He asks playfully. You shake your head, and shift your body so you can watch him as he begins to tell the story.
“It was this sweet little creature,” he says, “and it just wandered in through the front gate. It hopped onto a platter of dates and began to eat them, which terrified the servant carrying it. She dropped the plate and screamed, and one of the cooks came running out to see what was the matter!”
“It's taking them so long to try and catch the monkey that someone had to come get me!” His hands move as he narrates, and he has a smile on his face. You begin to chuckle at the story, your previous worries forgotten. “And so finally I was able to lure it into my hands with a date, and put him outside!”
The mental image of the emperor and two servants trying to catch this little monkey makes you laugh, and Commodus smiles. He presses a kiss to your temple, and you sigh happily.
“Shall we go somewhere more comfortable?” He asks, holding a hand to help you stand. You accept it, and the two of you walk hand in hand through the halls.
“Thank you,” you whisper, kissing him softly.
“Of course, my love,” he replies. “To see you happy brings me joy like no other.”
You smile, and he wraps you in his arms in a tender hug. You two stay like that for long moments, basking in the evening sunlight and your love for one another.
an: thank you for the request, anon! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed!!
You had been best friends with Commodus for years, and were always by his side. One night, while dancing at a festival of Mars, you realize that you’re in love with him.
Masterlist
You and Commodus were best friends, and had grown up together. Your father worked in the senate, and was a close companion of Marcus Aurelius'. You and Commodus were side by side your whole lives, as he grew from a gangly child into a gorgeous young man, and you two had shared in many adventures.
“Commodus!” You shouted, letting yourself into his room. He jumped, but smiled when his eyes landed on you.
“As spontaneous as always,” He said, walking over to you. “Didn't your emperor ever teach you to knock?”
“He was too busy teaching you to scrape manure,” You laughed, waving him away. Commodus rolled his eyes, recalling the hours of ‘character building’ his father put him through.
“Did you come just to remind me of my tragic past?” He asked, crossing his arms.
“Of course not,” you exclaimed, remembering why you had come. “There is a festival of Mars tonight, and I want you to accompany me.”
“Don't remind me,” Commodus sighed. “You know I detest such…revelries.”
“But there will be music!” You cried, grabbing him by the shoulders. “And dancing! Please, Commodus?”
He sighed, but nodded. You let out a joyful laugh, and hugged him.
“We have a few hours before the festival,” Commodus noted. “I have an idea for what we could do in the meantime…”
There was a mischievous glint in his eye, and you smiled. You two could be quite the hellraisers, between Commodus’ plotting and your fearlessness. The palace servants had grown accustomed to the sight of you two dashing through the hallways after your little pranks, hand in hand and giggling madly.
You and Commodus slunk through the palace and to the great hall, where an esteemed guest from Ostia had come to discuss with the senate. The guest was boring everyone with demands for Ostia, despite being one of the richest of the outer provinces. He droned on and on about more cattle, more soldiers, more crops. Several of the senators let out bored yawns.
Commodus snuck behind the Ostian's chair, which he had abandoned during his lecture. From his pocket he produced a small leather sack, which seemed to be empty. He carefully placed the sack on the seat, and shot you a smile. You were confused, and wanted to ask what was happening. Commodus raised a finger to his lips, signaling to you to be quiet, and pointed to the hall where the man was finally finishing his speech.
“...Ostia thanks you for permitting me to come and speak, and I hope our alliance never fizzles out!”
He sat heavily on the sack, and a sound ripped from it like the farts of a great dragon. The sound echoed in the great hall, and everyone sat in stunned silence. Then, the people began to laugh in a cacophony of sound, you and Commodus included. Your shoulders shook with laughter, and you clutched at your stomach to hold yourself steady.
The Ostian man whipped around, looking for the source of his embarrassment. Commodus grabbed your hand, pulling you out into the hallway before you could be seen. You two were laughing like crazed hyenas, and you had to stop to catch your breath.
“Where…in the world,” you said in between gasps of breath, “did you learn that?”
“Elagabalus, an emperor” Commodus giggled, and smiled at you knowingly. “Those history lessons paid off after all.”
You shook your head and laughed. Leave it to Commodus to forget everything about his history lessons except for the farts.
"We should go back to your quarters before someone suspects us,” You said, taking his hand without a second thought. You had known one another for so long that your friendly affection to one another was second nature, and it was one of your favorite things about your friendship.
In his room, you sat on his bed and talked about everything and nothing. Commodus confided in you about his anxieties as the heir to the throne, and his hopes for Rome. You told him your fears for the future, uncertain as to whether you would be able to find a career which interested you. Philosophy and bureaucracy seemed meaningless to you, as much as your father loved it.
“Is there any future for the children of Rome?” you asked, sighing. Commodus laughed, and you shot him a glare.
“You could be a poet,” he said, smiling. “If tragic phrases like that come so naturally to you.” You shoved him lightly, laughing.
“What a life for us that would be,” you said. “The emperor and his poet.”
“I would like nothing better,” Commodus said truthfully. Your laughter died as he leaned forward, the heat from his body radiating off him. You were close enough to smell the olive and rose oils on his skin, and to see the minute details in his stormy green eyes. His hair, curly and soft, was backlit by the sun. The orange hue of the sunset reminded you of the time.
“The festival will be starting soon; we should get ready,” You said, standing up. You felt cold, missing your friend's warmth already.
“I suppose,” Commodus whispered, and watched you go. Although the traditional color for mars was red, you chose to dress in orange. The color reminded you of the sun, and of the times you had watched it set over the ocean.
Commodus dressed in plain red, but you smiled when you saw him nonetheless. He still seemed a little disgruntled at having to attend, and you laughed at his grumpy expression.
The festival was lively, and there were musicians playing fantastic tunes which you could dance along to. Red cloth hung from the ceiling, turning the sunlight from gold to bloodred. People laughed and ate and danced, and you could feel the vibrance of life all around you.
You took Commodus’ hand in yours and dragged him to the dance floor, laughing as you went. Even with your fears for the future, it felt good to enjoy this snippet of happiness.
Commodus, despite his reservations, was a fantastic dancer, and your bodies moved in a steady rhythm. Your arms rested on his shoulders, his hands gripping your waist. His eyes sparkled when he laughed, and your heart soared.
The music began to slow, and Commodus drew you into a hug as you two swayed on the floor. His head rested in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheek press against yours.
“I'm happy you invited me to come,” He whispered, his lips brushing against your neck.
“I'm happy you came,” You whispered back, smiling. Your arms tightened around him, pulling his body against yours. You rested your head against his, his curls tickling your face. Your heart fluttered at the feeling of him melting against you, and he let out a contented sigh.
Your heart melted at his soft trust, and you realized now that you loved him. Of course you did; you always had.
It felt right to be in love with Commodus. He had been by your side longer than you could remember, and you hoped he would always be there. Every joy, every sorrow, every moment, you two had experienced it together. Your love for him was as natural as breathing, and you wanted to share this love with him forever.
“I love you,” you whispered against his cheek, your breath tickling his ear. He dislodged himself from your grasp to look at you, his eyes searching. Had he heard you correctly?
“What?” He asked, barely above a whisper. You began to panic, worried that you had said the wrong thing.
“I love you,” you repeated. Commodus took a breath, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“And I love you,” He murmured, his face mere inches from yours. You leaned forward, your nose brushing against his. You could see every detail of his face; his piercing eyes, the cleft on his lip, the tiny freckles scattered across his nose, his dark eyelashes which fluttered as he studied your face.
His lips met yours, soft and careful. As you pressed closer together, you felt a deep sense of completion. As you held him in your arms, your lips pressed together in a tender kiss, every emotion on display, you felt like you were opening the door to a place you had always known was there, but never seen.
Commodus pulled away from you, a smile touching his lips. He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, grinning like a schoolboy. He pressed his forehead against yours, the two of you smiling and giggling softly.
“I love you,” he whispered. His face was lit up by his giddy smile, and you two couldn't stop laughing. Love bubbled out of you in joyful waves, and you saw your love and happiness reflected on Commodus' face. As you hugged him and traded happy kisses with him, you knew.You were home.
an: if you like, please comment and reblog! If you wanna see more fics like this, I take requests!!
You looked up from the parchments you had been explaining to the Senators. You looked over to the young page who had just walked in.
“And did he mention what he sought counsel in?” you asked him boldly.
“Yes. Legislation, my Lady.”
“Ahhh. Yes. Legislation.” You knew exactly what he needed.
“It’s not relating to the Greek quarter is it?” Senator Gracchus asked, his voice haughty.
“Most likely, yes,” you told him.
“Then surely I should join you.”
“I don’t think that…” your voice trailed off. You imagined the Emperor’s face when he saw you walk in with the dry old Senator. You smiled. “Yes. Your counsel would be much obliged, Senator Gracchus.”
***
Finally. She’s here.
Commodus looked up from his desk. He felt himself relax as you walked in. He rubbed the side of his index finger over his lips, hiding the smile that formed there.
No. No it can’t be.
He watched as someone uninvited shuffled into the room just a couple steps behind you.
“Y/N. Senator Gracchus.” He nodded politely, yet spoke through tight lips.
“Your page informed me you required counsel on legislation. Senator Gracchus offered his expertise.” You smiled at the Emperor, your eyes full of mischief. “I assume I made the correct decision, my Lord?”
Through gritted teeth, he smiled at you both. “Yes. Yes of course.”
He nodded once more to Senator Gracchus. The Senator took this as a sign to pull up a seat.
You watched as the old Senator lectured the young Emperor on the importance of approving the specific legislature for sanitation in the Greek Quarter, and how raising taxes was the obvious solution. Ordinarily you would roll your eyes subtly, before correcting the old man with the more progressive way of taking care of the people. Instead, your eyes were on Commodus, who grew more irritated by the minute. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and swept the pads of his fingers over his eyelids.
By the Gods. This is like some crazed nightmare.
“Thank you, Senator Gracchus.” He took advantage of a pause in conversation.
“Sire, I do believe the solution is simple. Taxes are the clear answer…”
Commodus didn’t hear the rest of the Senator’s repeated ramblings. You both looked at one another. Boldly now, the Emperor slipped his right hand from the desk and onto his lap. His eyes remained on you.
He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. Not with Gracchus here. Or would he?
“We have received sufficient counsel from Senator Gracchus. Wouldn’t you agree, Y/N?”
Your eyes were wide.” Y-yes. Yes, Caesar.” You swallowed hard. He had to get out of there before Commodus started doing his worst. “Senator, thank you. I will take it from here.”
With some grumblings, the old Senator left.
You glared at Commodus. He smirked, smug to have found a way to force your hand. He stood and walked around to the front of his desk. He stood in front of you.
“Now that wasn’t very polite, was it.”
“Polite? You asked for help on legislation. I brought the help.” You grinned, pleased with yourself.
“You know that wasn’t what I wanted.” His eyes were dark now. Dangerous. You felt your heartrate quicken. “Turn around.”
“Pardon?”
“Hands on the desk. Palms down.”
“Caesar, I-”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
You placed your hands on the desk.
“Spread your legs.”
You let out a shaky breath as you followed his instructions.
“Bend over. Place your forearms on the marble.”
You felt the cool stone underneath your bare skin.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear. You felt his hand tracing circles over your backside. His voice was soft now. “If you do not wish to proceed, you must tell me now. I will let you go. There will be no repercussions.”
“No… I want this.” You whispered back to him.
Gently, he ran his hands over your hair, allowing it to fall over one shoulder. You looked incredibly feminine to him. Like a goddess.
“So long as you’re certain,” he whispered again.
You pushed your hands off the desk and stood. “By the Gods, if you’re going to spank me would you just get on with it?”
Must she always defy me… she surely knows how it excites me.
He pushed you down onto the desk, your cheek in contact with the cool marble as he held your head down.
“Count them. And address me correctly on the final strike.”
He struck your bottom with the flat of his hand, prompting you to gasp. He gave you three more strikes in quick succession. Then another.
Five.
You allowed your breath to steady as he took a break. He gently smoothed his hands over one cheek as he moved to the next.
Six, seven, eight.
You were breathless now.
He drew his arm back, striking one cheek, then the other, HARD.
Nine, ten.
“Hail Caesar!” you gasped.
He smirked.
“Stand for me.” His voice was gentle now. He placed his hands on your hips and turned you around to face him. He observed your expression. You were flushed, with a dizzied look on your face. Your eyes were full of lust.
“W-would… would you like my assistance now?” you stammered.
He shook his head before walking back around his desk. He pulled out his throne and sat down. “That’s not why I called you here.”
You scrunched up your face. “It isn’t? Then… why did you call for me?”
“It doesn’t matter now. You spoiled it by bringing the Senator. We missed the moment.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “The moment?”
He looked up at you. Hurt washed across his dark eyes.
You looked at the papers on his desk to distract you from your guilt. “What’s all this, anyway?”
You leafed through the pages and spotted a parchment with far too much ink to be a bill. You picked it up. He stood.
“No, no Y/N, give it back.” He reached up as you held the paper above your head, your arm outstretched. He reached over the desk and couldn’t reach it. You climbed onto the desk, gaining height, and stood up on top of it as you held the paper upright. He clambered on top of his throne to get better access to you. You laughed as you held the paper close enough to read.
“The fair maiden entered the dark hall, her mind spinning with the thoughts of her day.” You read aloud. “Ha! Her red lips were silent, but her eyes said so much…”
“Please, Y/N. Please.” His face was blood red. “I’m begging you.”
His words cut straight through your chatter. You looked down at him. He was standing on his throne. His eyes were glassy. He didn’t need to say another word. Please don’t read it aloud.
All of a sudden, it wasn’t funny anymore. You felt a pang of guilt in your stomach. He stepped off the throne and onto the floor. He offered you his hand. Gingerly, you held his hand as you lowered yourself onto the floor. You stood next to him.
“I’m sorry. Truly. I… I didn’t mean to… to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” He looked away. His face was full of pride. But his eyes were sad.
“Did you… did you write this?”
He nodded.
“Where did you learn how to write like this?”
“I studied literature. It was a requirement from father-” His voice caught on emotion trapped in his throat. “I studied it when I was young.”
“I didn’t know Emperors could write literature,” you mused.
“They’re not supposed to.”
“Do you mind if… if I read the rest?”
He looked at you.
“I’ll read it silently.”
He nodded. “Very well.”
You leaned your back against his desk as you read the rest of the page.
At his command, she leaned her toned frame against his desk. Her eyes widened at the surprise he had in store for her. She wasn’t here for his pleasure. No. She was here to receive it. She spread her legs and rested her feet on the arms of his throne. She trembled in anticipation. She had heard the rumours about his skills. Now she would discover that they were true.
You looked up at him. You stuck out your bottom lip as if to say aww. You found it sweet.
“You… you wanted me to come here to give me pleasure.” You spoke softly. Your volume was low.
He took the page from you and tore it in half, then into quarters. “Well. Like I said. You’ve spoiled it now.”
“Oh come on. Don’t pout.”
“I’m not pouting.” He looked at you with pursed lips.
“You know, I… I have heard the rumours. From your concubines.” Would flattery get you what you wanted? You hoped so.
“And what rumours are they?” He spoke quietly, but there was a sinister edge to his tone. He stared at you intently. It was obvious he wanted you to say it.
“That you have the most skilled tongue in all of Rome.”
“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow, attempting to act surprised. “Those rumours. Do you think they’re true?”
“One way to find out,” you said smugly, lifting yourself up onto the desk. You shifted yourself over so that you were facing his throne. You waited for him to sit down in his large, regal chair. He kept his eyes on you as he purposefully moved the throne out of the way. He dropped onto his knees before you. His hands smoothed over your legs as he lifted up your dress. You gasped as his fingers made contact with you. And then his tongue got to work.
You climaxed within minutes. Your face flushed, mortified that you weren’t able to last a moment longer. As you regained your composure, he covered your modesty and pulled your dress back down. He rose to his feet and stood in between your wide open legs.
“And how was that?”
You swayed a little. He moved closer and placed a steady hand on your lower back.
“Are you alright?” He asked when you remained silent. You nodded.
He placed his forehead on yours. “I was nervous, you know.”
“Nervous?” You knew he had a concubine most nights. Why on earth would he be nervous with this act? It was a mystery to you.
“Because… well…”
You felt him wanting to pull away from you. You placed your hand on the back of his head, silently reassuring him.
“Because I think about you,” he whispered. “I think about you when you’re not here.”
For Emperor Commodus, it was as close to a declaration of love that he had ever been. He thought he may vomit from the nervous feeling fluttering in his stomach. He wondered, did you think of him? He daren’t ask.
“I think of you too, Caesar. I think of you too.”
He closed his eyes, his forehead still pressed to yours. He lifted away just an inch. He looked into your eyes. And with his hands softly cupping your face, he kissed you. You returned his affections, kissing him deeply.
Reluctantly, he pulled away. He cleared his throat.
“You know, I… I would like your counsel after all.”
You smiled. “You would?”
He looked up at you and smiled, almost goofily. You wore a similar expression. Without a word or a command, you slipped off his desk and fetched his throne. You placed it in front of his desk and gestured for him to sit down. He nodded regally, smiling at his mock formality. He sat down. You stood beside him, one hand on the arm of his throne and the other resting on his shoulder. You leaned down and spoke softly.
“How can I be of service?”
He turned his head to you. “What do you really think about the Greek Quarter?” He narrowed his eyes, keen to get your perspective.
“Well, I…” You lowered your gaze to his lips. He made it so hard to concentrate. “I understand they need sanitation. We must give this to them. Build baths, and public latrines.”
“And we raise their taxes to cover the expense?”
You shook your head. “No. No, they are in poverty. We gift them the sanitation.”
He frowned. “And why would we do that.”
“Because it’s our role to take of them. They are our children.”
He smiled as you repeated the words he used on his first day as Emperor.
“And…” you continued. “With the sanitation, their health will improve. They will work in the fields. Yield crops. They will weave baskets, create pottery, tan leather, and provide this to their people and sell small items to the surrounding communities. This in turn boosts their morale, and it gives them a self-sustaining economy. By gifting them sanitation we give them the ability to support themselves for years to come.”
“I had no idea you were so benevolent.” He smiled warmly at you.
“Well. Yes. And…” You moved both your hands to his shoulders now. “It will cost us less in the long-run. We will no longer have to pay to feed them or fund health-related care. It also prevents another outbreak of plague. Plus, the resulting loyalty of the people in the Greek Quarter will pay you dividends. It’s a wise investment.”
He looked up at you. She will make a grand Empress one day.
“Any questions, Caesar?”
“Yes.” He turned in his throne now. He wanted to see your face. “Would you stay with me? I… I have some other legislation that requires your counsel.”
You smiled. You observed the papers on his desk. This wasn’t a euphemism. He really did have work to do.
“It would be my pleasure, Caesar.”
With a smile, you walked around to the other side of the desk. You sat in the chair previously occupied by Gracchus. You sat down and picked up the first set of papers. The Emperor took your hand.
“Y/N?”
“Yes, Caesar?”
“Please don’t call me that.” He smiled softly.
“Alright. Very well.” You smiled in return.
“Now. Let’s discuss the funding of the Games, shall we?”
You smiled. “Yes. Commodus.”
Your words felt like the sun on his heart. He beamed as he handed you the first round of papers covering the financing of his Games.
Suddenly, he stood. He placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss. He kissed you passionately, his tongue fighting for dominance over yours. He pulled away. You were both breathless.
“Alright. I have it all out of my system now.” He cleared his throat. “Now. Financing the Games…”
Imagine working for Commodus and riding (ahem) in the carriage with him to Germania. He asks for your help and is self-conscious for you to be near him because he’s unkempt and hasn’t bathed.
Working Title: The Musk of Commodus 😂
“Y/N,” the future Emperor’s voice called softly through the carriage. You sat beside the door in a small section reserved for the help. He was deep inside the carriage, reading. He sat opposite a large empty day bed. “Y/N, May I trouble you?” His voice was shaky and urgent.
You rose from your space and walked through the carriage to his side. He was sat up, fumbling at the wide, ornate belt around his waist.
“I’m having a little trouble.” His cheeks were flushed through a cocktail of effort and embarrassment.
“Allow me, my Lord.”
You stepped forward and he held his hands up in protest.
“May I, your Highness?”
“Y-yes Y/N. Please. But please forgive my... state. I confess 3 weeks on the road has taken its toll on my... usual high standards.” His eyes fluttered self-consciously.
“Thank you, my Lord. I will be descreet.”
With one nod of his head, you received approval. You stepped forward. You placed your hands on the belt, working your hands from the front to the back. You hooked your thumbs between the belt and his tunic, sliding your thumbs lightly to find the clasp. Ah...! Found it. The clasp was around the back. No wonder he was having trouble.
Hesitantly, you pressed your body to his, resting your chin on his left shoulder. He leaned into you. For stability, you assumed. You felt his breath on your neck, and his stubble prickling the soft skin on your shoulder. As you fumbled with the clasp, you found the lock. You pretended you hadn’t. Instead, you lingered close the future Caesar. Your nose caught on a scent. A fan of daily baths with oils and massages, you knew how he valued his routine. And he was self-conscious about his lack of access to baths, he had told you. But it was pleasant. A natural musk that in equal parts felt familiar and comforted you. Against your right cheek, locks of his hair brushed your skin. His hair was longer now, softened by his natural oils. You liked him like this.
Your hands had stopped moving, a sure giveaway you were milking this task. You cleared your throat, and placed your hand on his back for leverage. With one flick of your finger, the lock came undone. The belt loosened. He sighed. His hand too rested on your back. His head nuzzled into your neck. He stayed like that for a few moments, inhaling the scent of you.
Reluctantly, you pulled away. Without looking at him, you pulled the belt from his waist and held it in your hands. You stood up tall, in front of him.
“Thank you, Y/N. I hope the task wasn’t too... unpleasant. I realise it’s indecent of me to remove my belt. However it’s terribly uncomfortable.” He looked away, shyly.
“It’s just us, Sire. You may do as you please.”
He smiled. You continued.
“And, no. The task was not unpleasant.” You smiled now. He looked up.
“I wasn’t too... musky?”
“No, my Lord.”
“There is no need to lie, Y/N. It is just us here.”
“I don’t lie,” you told him honestly. “You have a very pleasant aura. I dare say that’s why I lingered.”
Oh...
“And you,” he blushed as he recounted your essence. “You always carry the scent of flowers and honey.”
“You flatter, my Lord.”
“No. The Senators flatter. I speak the truth.”
He looked at you. Those deep, dark eyes. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. You felt certain it was impure. You swallowed down on the thought.
He stood. With the simple act of standing, his chest was merely an inch from yours. He took the belt from your hand, brushing your hand as he did so. He dropped the belt on the bed behind him. Gently, he raised his fingertips up to your face.
“May I...?” he whispered.
“Yes...” your voice was barely audible.
His fingertips brushed at the skin on your cheeks.
“Why don’t you stay here. With me.” He spoke softly.
Was it a command? Or a request?
“Yes, my Lord.”
He sat back down. Had you said something wrong?
He gestured to the unused day bed behind you. “You may join me. Take the bed as your own. If you wish. But I will not command you. The choice is yours.”
He sat back on his bed and reached for his book. You nodded and curtseyed before you left his section of the carriage.
She chooses to stay in her section. Well. That’s what you get for giving a maid a choice, Commodus. She rejects you. Stupid, stupid decision Commodus. Well done. You fool.
Within minutes, he sensed a shadow at the doorway into his section. He looked up from his book. You stood, with a book in your hand, and your blanket.
She came back. She chose to come back.
You looked at him, softly. Affectionately. He felt his lip start to quiver with emotion. He swallowed. This did nothing to hide the glassing over of his eyes. Sensing he was uncomfortable with displaying emotion in front of you, you bowed your head. Slowly, so as not to spook him, you made your way to your new day bed opposite him.
You sat down amongst the rich, plump cushions. You opened your book. You glanced over at him. He was staring at you. The moment you caught him, he looked away.
“You know...” you started, boldly. “You will never finish that book if your eyes keep leaving the pages.”
He blushed. His eyes remained fixed on the paper in front of him.
“I could say the same for you, Y/N.” He grinned broadly, pleased at his witty retort. Through his peripheral vision, he knew you were looking at him.
You looked back down at your book. Involuntarily, you bit your lip. All of a sudden, your favourite book had lost its appeal.
“First one to look, loses.” Commodus said, grinning as he did so.
Twenty pages in, you won. He was looking at you. He was also kneeling on your day bed, looming over you.
“Oh please,” he started, picking the book from your hands. “It can’t be that interesting.”
You shifted against the plush pillows behind you. Your smile was making your cheeks hurt.
“Perhaps my Lord has something more... stimulating... in mind?”
He grinned fiendishly. “I dare say. My Lady has... no idea...”
Confidently, he leaned down and kissed you.
It turned out, his plan was rather stimulating indeed.
***
Paging @darknessisafriend @suspended-in-duskk - pure Commodus essence!!!!
Tagging @jokerflecker @winterjasmine007 @dreamingmaria (not sure who else to tag ❤️)
For the beautiful @cherrymoon75 aka @suspended-in-duskk and @bring-your-holy-water
Even though you had been together for more than a year, Commodus is still terrified to verbally express his feelings for you.
You both know he hasn’t said it. You have told him you love him. From the time you first said it, as he rested his head on your chest after you made love, and you gently whispered, “I love you.” His response was to tilt his head up and kiss you.
Or the time you spontaneously shrieked, “I love you!” in his throne room, his aides averting their eyes respectfully as the Emperor bowed to one knee and gently took your hand in his and placed a loving kiss on the tops of your fingers. He closed his eyes as he did so.
He preferred to show you how he felt, showering you with gifts, providing you with the most decadent food, searching far and wide for the most talented tailors and silk merchants for your clothing. He gave you his time, his affection, and shared the most deeply intimate moments with you. You knew he loved you. He didn’t have to say it.
There was one more thing he didn’t tell you - the only person he had said “I love you” to was his sister, with disastrous consequences. He was terrified of history repeating itself.
Until one day, he was sat in the Senators hall, bored out of his mind, spinning his sword, when an aide ran in, calling for the Emperor. You had fallen from your horse, he said. Commodus shot up from his seat. “Is she hurt?” When the aide hesitated, he screamed, “I SAID IS SHE HURT????” “Follow me my Lord, come quickly,” the aide guided Commodus to the infirmary, telling him everything he knew en route. He knew you had fallen. He didn’t know the extent of your injuries. He was informed by a messenger that you were in the woods, and you would arrive back at the palace infirmary soon.
“My horse,” he commanded with a lift of his hand. His stableman reminded him that you had took his horse, with his sanction. That’s right... he remembered. His horse was faster. You had wanted to test yourself. And now you were hurt and it was his fault. Without informing anyone of his next move, he mounted his second-favourite horse and kicked his heels. The horse lurched into action and galloped off at speed. He knew exactly where you would be. Behind him, and unbeknownst to him, his guards scrambled to catch up with him. No Emperor had ever left the palace grounds without his guards. This was the furthest thing from Commodus’ mind.
As he galloped on his horse down the forest track you had rode down together so many times, he saw a royal carriage. He pulled on the reigns and the horse rested up and stopped sharply. He jumped off and ran to the carriage, which had now stopped.
He burst through the doors, tears in his eyes as he pictured the worst possible scenario. Were you fatally injured? Would you be bleeding? Would you walk again?
You looked up. Your love was rushing towards you, sweating, gasping, tears brimming at his eyes as he looked at you.
He saw you. You were sat up, as a nurse applied an ointment to your arm to prevent bruising.
He knelt down in front of you, his hand on your face. His hand was shaking. “My love, my sweet love, are you hurt? Where are you hurt?” His eyes searched your face, then your body, searching for an injury. “Please tell me, please speak to me...” His face fell down and he placed a hand to his forehead as he sobbed.
“My love,” you spoke softly. “I am well. My arm may bruise. That is all.”
He stopped breathing for a moment. Did he hear correctly?
“You’re... you’re alright?”
You nodded. “Yes. In fact. My nurse said I can ride again within the week.”
“Well...” he said, looking to the side and raising both eyebrows. “We’ll see about that.”
“Your horse is fine, too. She’s unharmed,” you assured him. He loved his horse. But he was clearly more concerned about you.
“I love you,” he gushed, pressing his lips to yours, not caring about the presence of his nurse and the wide open carriage door. “I love you. You will be my wife,” he gasped. “If... if you’ll have me, of course.”
You chewed on your lip. “Well that depends on whether you intend on keeping me cooped up in your palace... or if I’m free to ride through the forest as I please.”
He gulped, and cleared his throat. He loved your strength. And, it challenged him. “Perhaps... perhaps we can ride together.”
“A compromise,” you grinned mischievously. “I accept.”
He placed his hands either side of your face and devoured you through passionate kisses. “I love you,” he gasped through kisses. “I love you so much.” He placed a knee beside you, eager to climb on top of you. You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and cleared your throat, nodding behind Commodus. He turned his head and saw the nurse. Oh... yes...
He stood up, tilting his chin high and flaring his nostrils. “I will take her. She will return to the palace with me. On my horse.”
“My Lord,” the nurse stood, and curtsied. “May I be so bold to suggest my Lady is transported by carriage. Until the palace infirmary can ensure she is fit and well.
He thought, and nodded. “I will sit beside her. You will continue to treat her.” He turned around to see a guard at the open doors of the carriage. “Ride my two horses back to the palace. Gently. Give them all the food and water they desire.”
He turned back to you and smiled proudly. You nodded towards your nurse, stood with her head bowed. “You may continue to treat my fiancé.” He glanced back to you. You looked displeased, as though he was missing something. Instantly, he knew. Gently, so as not to frighten the young nurse, he placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him as he spoke. “Thank you.” ❤️
Author’s note: Returning to the palace, the doctors conclude you are physically well, although Commodus insists on you taking bed rest for the rest of day. You initially protest, then feel glad you agreed when he sits beside you on the bed and feeds you delicious dates and figs (@darknessisafriend and @jokerflecker, you inspired me with Commodus and food!). The nurse gets promoted to your personal nurse because Commodus trusts her implicitly. And the aide, who rushed into the Senate hall with the news of your accident, becomes a close aide too ❤️
