This last chapter was INCREDIBLE!!! That hair scene really shocked me and made me so scared for her! Honestly, kudos to you for writing tension and action scenes so well because I know they're not always fun and easy to do for a lot of writers, myself included😆
I'm feeling so sad and it is so hard for me to comprehend at the thought that The Lesser of Two Evils might be over soon😢 It has always been my favorite thing to look forward to and has been a part of my life for basically over a year now that I'm realizing and the thought of that being gone soon makes me feel like my life will be feeling a little bit emptier one day... I know you will have other stories to write and I will look forward to those as well (maybe I'll get a new favorite) and other writers too, but this one will always have a special place in my heart. It's a story I think about constantly even if I'm at work or in the middle of something and I always feel like my day gets better whenever it is updated!
I really would have love to see and read more of Marcus and Alia as parents and what their family life is like, especially after everything Alia has gone through and how she copes with this new reality of hers when it felt so far away at one point, she deserves all the happiness in the world!!!...And I'm really just a sucker for family fluff in general! I can only hope that maybe one day you will do a one shot (or a few, haha) or maybe even a sequel🤷🏻♀️(wink, wink) I would really love to see them as a family and the new trials and tribulations they may go through as a result, but I know you have other projects in mind as well!
Oh wow, thank you so much! I honestly don't know how to put into words how much this means to me! To think that my little imaginings has had such an impact is incredible and I'm glad I could help to make your days a little better. I feel a little sad it's coming to an end, too. I might do a small drabble about their family life at some point. The hair scene was brutal for poor Alia but she's overcome so much and with Marcus at her side she'll be just fine. I do have plenty of other stories to come: a Din Djarin multi chapter, a Harry castillo one shot, a Joel Miller multi chapter and part 2 to another Joel miller story, so there's going to be lots to read. Again, I cannot tell you how much this amazing message means to me. It's literally the best message I've ever recieved on Tumblr, you're amazing! 😘💖
Summary: Julia's sudden visits begin to unnerve you. You and Marcus hit a bump in your relationship but not even that can dampen the growing desire between you both...
Warnings: smut! (under 18's DNI!), fluff, swearing, angst, heated argument, slow burn, enemies to lovers, age gap, protective Marcus Acacius, OFC/reader.
Word Count: 7, 724
A/N: Smuuuuutttt!!! finally, we get to the good stuff. It's been a long time, ahem, coming (no pun intended). I'm so happy they finally get to take that step and give themselves to each other 😋😘😍
Chapter 12 Belonging
Since the night you opened up to Marcus, something had changed within you; a kind of.... surrender. For too long you've had only yourself to rely on, only your perspective to guide you through the toughest and darkest moments in your life. It's all you've known. But after allowing Marcus just the slightest glimpse into the shame and desolation that has followed you all of your life, you've come to realise that maybe you don't have to carry this alone anymore, maybe accepting help is just what you need, and for the first time you find yourself willing to be more vulnerable around him. He didn't judge you and turn away from you, didn't look at you in revulsion. He'd offered support and understanding and a shoulder to cry on. His reassuring presence and his gentle encouragement had slowly enabled you to begin facing years of trauma and darkness and in the few weeks that had passed since that night, your bond with Marcus has deepened more than you could have anticipated.
He has become so much more than a friend; he's your comfort, your strength, your beating heart. A part of you wishes you could shout out loud for all of Rome to hear, how deeply this man has touched your heart and soul. At least in the privacy of the villa neither of you have to hide your feelings as the slaves aren't permitted to speak of their masters' business. Gentle gestures of affection; lingering touches, forehead kisses and adoring looks have become a common sight in your home now. At first the slaves had been unsure of what to make of this turn of events. They'd tried their best to appear unfazed but you won't forget the barely contained surprise flash across their faces the first time Marcus held you and kissed your forehead in front of them; now they don't bat an eye. Of course, the more heated moments where when you were both alone. Even if it were only for a few moments, while the servants were elsewhere an empty room or a secluded part of the Hortus would serve as the backdrop to the fiery passion brewing between you both.
Sometimes Marcus would initiate it, sometimes you would and everytime his touch would leave you craving for more; more of his taste, more of his scent, more of his large calloused hands roaming your skin, more of the electricity his caress would send skittering up your spine. This man has become an addiction for you. You've both become like lovestruck teenagers, never being able to be close enough to one another. This is the happiest you've been in... so long. However, this is one issue... Julia. For the past fortnight she has inserted herself into your lives on numerous occasions, often times arriving without warning. Is this normal for friends? Given your lack of friendships throughout your life you don't really know the etiquette between friends. How close is too close? You can't deny that whenever she visits you feel like you're intruding. How can someone make you feel like that in your own home? Marcus always makes sure to include you in their interactions but Julia, at some point during every visit, somehow manages to subtly alienate you, just like she's doing now.
While she converses fondly with Marcus about moments and memories from their shared past, you let your attention wander about the Hortus, casually sipping your wine. Watching a fat bee buzz form flower to flower is more entertaining than listening to Julia yap on as if the world is centred around her. Your attention is brought back to them when Marcus stands, excusing himself with the assurance he'll be back in a few minutes. With a tight smile you nod, watching him walk away. Urgh, don't leave me alone with her! If Julia is as uncomfortable as you she's good at hiding it. Her posture and confidant countenance radiate superiority as she turns to look at you with a saccharine smile. "So..." she begins, pausing to take a slow sip of her wine. "I've noticed you've settled in well here, Alia." "Yes thank you, My Lady," you reply in a steady voice. Julia sighed with fake sweetness. "How many times must I ask you to call me Julia? As I've said before, any friend of Acacius' is a friend of mine."
You shift uncomfortably, unsure if your objection would cause offense. "I don't believe it's appropriate for someone of my station to address someone of your station so intimately." Julia chuckled, shaking her head as if you were some simpleton. It instantly irked you. "If I say it's appropriate, then it is. Besides, all my friends call me Julia and we are friends, are we not?" Forcing a smile onto you face, you reply, "Of course we are... Julia." Julia's smile widened, her triumphant expression making you feel uneasy. You swear she can sense the apprehension you always feel around her? You dare believe she may even enjoy it. "How long has it been since you arrived here?" You had to take a moment to think. "Uh... five... six weeks," you answer. Gosh! Has it really been six weeks? Everything still feels so new to you.
"I must say, life here seems to agree with you," Julia went on. "Not only have you embraced our culture, you've also become somewhat famous. Everyone from high class to lower class speak of you in awe. You've gained quite a reputation." A slight grimace took over your face, uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't understand why they focus so much on me. Marcus is the one who deserves the admiration. Even now, when he's supposed to be recovering he puts his duty to Rome first," you deflect. Julia smiles. "Yes, he does. He's a very honourable man." For once you agree with her, your own smile impossible to hide now. "He is... and he's been so good to me these past weeks." "He's like that with those he cares about," Julia's expression softens as her tone turns intimate regarding Marcus.
A little jolt of... jealousy? twists in your gut and you mentally chastise yourself. It's silly to feel like that; after all they've known each other far longer than you've known Marcus. Julia continues, "Marcus... he's like family to me and family is the most important thing in this world," she pauses, levelling you with a serious look, "I'd never let anyone take advantage of him." Who the hell does this woman think she is?! Her voice may be soft but the glint in her eye is unmistakable. She actually sees you as a threat to Marcus. A part of you wants to laugh in her face at the absurdity of it all; another part burns to tell her to stay out of your business and if anyone can't be trusted, it's her. But maybe that's what she wants; a reaction she can use against you. Like hell will you give her the satisfaction.
Instead you meet her stare and mustering a serious tone, you reply, "Neither would I." It's a simple statement but the meaning behind your words landed on Julia just as you'd intended. That became obvious when her carefully placed mask of confidence and superiority slipped for a second before she corrected her error. You have to fight the urge to smile at her reaction. She's obviously unused to being treated so unceremoniously. With a sickly sweet smile, she says, "I'm happy to hear that. Acacius is very fortunate to have friends who care for him deeply." You give her a tight smile and before either of you can speak again Marcus returns, taking his seat and remaining oblivious to what had just passed between you and Julia. Julia's sweet persona is now back as she chats and laughs lightheartedly with Marcus, like she hadn't just threatened you.
Watching her, it's clear; this woman excels in the art of manipulation and with the power she wields as the dowager empress, this could turn ugly. There's always been a niggling feeling that something just wasn't right when it came to her friendship with Marcus and seeing the blatant falseness she is showing right now, you're beginning to wonder if she's even capable of forming genuine bonds. Surely Marcus can sense it too? It can't just be you. During the rest of her visit, you keep your composure, smiling along and engaging in the conversation while trying your best to understand what exactly her angle is here, if there is one, because you could also be wrong in your perception of her, after all you are from two different worlds. Maybe the social dynamics of Roman society is just something you'll never fully comprehend no matter how hard you try. But ones thing's for certain; you'll never let her cause any kind of rift between you and Marcus.
The next morning Marcus had left straight after breakfast; another meeting with the praetorians apparantly. He'd never discussed these meetings with you and you know when it comes to official business it's not your place to pry. The only thing you did wonder was why? In the past month Marcus had been attending these meetings more frequently, sometimes returning home with the look of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. The sight of him troubled makes your heart ache for him. But how can you help? It's not like he's at liberty to discuss these matters with you. Whatever is weighing him down, you hope it'll be resolved soon, for his sake. Today Marcus will be away for hours and since it's Cassia's day off you'd decided to seek her out. You've both become close over the weeks since your arrival and never having any close female friends growing up, you find yourself appreciating her company more and more.
Catching sight of her in the hallway by the entrance doors you call out, making your way over to her. "Good morning, Alia," Cassia smiled warmly, adjusting her satchel across her body. "Good morning. Are you going to the market again?" you ask, smiling in return. Cassia nods, "Yes, only for an hour or so." "Would you like some company?" Cassia's face lit up. "I'd love some company," she beamed but then her expression dropped slightly. "But would the Dominus allow you to leave the villa?" "Allow...?" you raise an eyebrow in mock indignation. "Oh, f-forgive me," Cassia stammered, "I just meant-" It's fine," you chuckle, waving it off. You understand her concern but as a free woman and a citizen, and with the absense of male members of your family, you get to make your own decisions now. "I know you meant no offence, but if you've no objections I'd love to join you." "Of course," Cassia grinned. "l'll be back in a moment," you said enthusiastically and rushed to your room to retrieve your own satchel.
When you got to the gate you expected maybe some uncertainty from the guards - this being your first time leaving the villa without Marcus. What you didn't expect was flat out refusal to let you leave. "I'm sorry, My Lady," one of the guards said as he blocked your path. "You cannot leave without the general present." A sense of ire prickled under your skin at the mans' gruff tone. You're a free woman for goodness sake! What's the point of freedom if it is only a word? "Did the General order you to keep me here?" you demand, keeping your breathing steady while inside your heart is racing. All your life you'd learned to keep your head down, to obey without question. Going against everything you've learned feels not only foolish but downright dangerous. But the rational part of your mind knows you are in no danger, no matter how intimidating the guards may be and you are no longer the meek and docile slave.
The guards' eyes snap to yours now, his stony epression wavering. "No... but he wouldn't want you to go out there by yourself-" "I won't be by myself," you interject, gesturing to Cassia. The guard refuses to move. "I'm afraid I still can't let you pass. The General-" "Does not own me," you say sharply. You take a deep breath, lowering your tone. "Look, I understand you have a job to do but I'm well within my rights to come and go as I see fit. So please, step aside." The two guards cast nervous glances at each other, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. Cassia stood beside you, silently watching the whole exchange. After a moment the other guard relented. "Let them pass," he said with reluctance. They both stepped away from you and as you and Cassia began the half hour walk into the city a strange and welcome sense of liberty fell over you. This is true freedom; being able to decide where you go and what you do.
*****
The meeting with the praetorians was worse than Marcus had expected. Even with the extra presence of soldiers throughout the city the unrest only seems to be growing. What began as a rise in food theft at the markets has now turned much more serious; gatherings at public podiums where brave - or stupid - speakers air their grievances of the emperors are becoming more common, which in turn is riling up more and more people and enabling open hostility towards the wealthier members of society. This is not the Rome Marcus fought for under the rule of Septimus Severus. The stability the former emperor brought after the last civil war is rapidly being undone by his disasterous sons who didn't even care enough to be here today. The enitre city could crumble around them and those two would bury their heads in the sand until the last minute.
Marcus had to see for himself just how dire the streets were becoming so he'd joined a patrol for the aftrenoon and what he saw left him both frustrated and worried. All along the outskirts of the city the poor and destitute wailed for scraps of food and denarius and elsewhere men called passionately for weary citizens to demand change. The resentment and anger from everyday people was so palpable Marcus can still feel it now as he enters the courtyard of the villa. Even his horse seems edgy as he dismounts and hands him over to the stable boy. How did things get so bad so quickly? In the months since he'd left for the Germanic campaign Rome had descended into hopelessness. Sighing heavily, Marcus can feel the beginning of a tension headache behind his eyes.
Entering the villa, Marcus can think of only one thing, one person who can help him feel better; you. "Alia...?" Marcus called as Silas appeared to take his cloak. The smell of cooked meat and fresh baked bread hit Marcus' scenses and made his stomach rumble. He'd been so preoccupied with the days' problems he'd forgotten to eat. "Good evening, Dominus," Silas greeted Marcus with warmth and respect. "Good evening," Marcus replied, looking around. "Where's Alia?" There was an awkward silence before Silas spoke. "She hasn't returned yet, Sir." Marcus' head whipped round to Silas, eyes wide, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "What?! What do you mean "hasn't returned"? Where did she go?" Silas took a step backwards, his normally nuetral expression etched with worry. "She left with Cassia earlier today. I believe they were headed for the market."
Marcus' heart lurched in his chest. You went out... ALONE, without any sufficient protection; what the hell! "The Market?" Marcus growled in disbelief. "Y-yes, Dominus. That's what Cassia told me." Marcus spun on his heel and stalked across the courtyard to the two guards positioned at the entrance. Marcus could see they looked afraid. Good they'd better be afraid. You let her go!" Marcus exploded at the closest guard, an inch from his face. The men backed up slightly. "General..." the closest guard said, nervously. "Why did you let her leave? Are you stupid?!" Marcus spat, looking between the two men. "Sir, we couldn't keep her here against her wishes. She's not a slave or under house arrest and since you gave us no specific orders-" "Orders!" Marcus could feel his blood begin to boil the longer this went on. "I should think it would be fucking obvious that you don't allow her to venture out alone!"
The guards lowered their gazes, the other one now speaking. "You're right, General. The fault is ours, forgive us." "Forgive you," Marcus seethed. "If anything happens to her I'll skin you both alive! You..." Marcus snapped his gaze to the man closest to him. "Prepare a horse and ride out at once and pray for your sake you find her unharmed." "Yes, sir," the guard nodded quickly then ran towards the stables. "And you, keep an eye out. If she returns while I'm gone make sure she is well cared for." Marcus didn't even wait for the mans' response before turning swiftly and rushing to the stables to ready his horse. His mind began spiralling as the seconds passed. What were you thinking?? How could you be so careless? Dangers lurk around every corner and you have just opened yourself up to said dangers.
If anyone hurts you... Marcus's chest thightend at the thought. He shakes his head; he can't think like that now. If he even entertaines such possibilities he won't be able to keep a clear head and he has to find you; that's all that matters now. Suddenly voices in the courtyard catch Marcus ear. Bursting through the stable doors, his breath catches in his chest at the sight of you quickly walkking towars him across the courtyard, with Cassia behind you and being led by a guard. You're safe! Overwhelming relief crashes over Marcus, the icy dread that threatened his very sanity moments ago abating. But now, with the absense of blind panic another sensation wells up - anger. He storms towards you, closing the gap within seconds. "Leave us," he ordered the guard while keeping his eyes fixed on you. "Where have you been?!" Marcus demanded, shoulders taut, frown lines deepening his brow.
The smile on your face - albeit a nervous one - fell instantly. "I... was with Cassia today," you answer, frowning. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" You cast a glance to Cassia who seems very interested in the ground right now. "We just went to the Market and then to the theatre. There was no cause for concern." "You went into the city with no protection and you expect me to not worry," Marcus scoffed then looked to Cassia. "You should have known better than to take her out there!" Cassia's cheeks turned bright red. "I'm sorry, Dominus. I didn't think." "She's not at fault, Marcus," you quickly came to her defence. "I invited myself along so the blame is mine alone." Movment in the courtyard caught both yours and Marcus' attention. Fantastic! The entire household has come outside to see the commotion. Without warning Marcus' hand reached for you, his grip solid around your upper arm and he began to pull you towards the villa.
"What- Marcus, let go!" you protested, angrily, digging your heels in the ground. You grab his hand trying - and failing - to release his hold on you. The man has an iron grip and you're powerless in his grasp. The Triclinium door slams shut with a rattle behind Marcus as he turns to face you, face like a thundercloud. "You had no right to do that!" you fumed, fists clenched at your sides. "Would you rather have an audiance??" Marcus shot back. "I'd rather you spoke to me like a rational man." "Do you realise the danger you put yourself in today?" Marcus continued to berate you. "Anything could have happened to you." "What danger, Marcus? Cassia goes into the city all the time -" "Cassia has grown up here. She knows the city, you don't." The headache Marcus felt earlier is returning with a vengance and you're inability to see sense is not helping. How could you so easily dismiss the ever present dangers? You stood closer to Marcus, hands on your hips. "If It's safe enough for Cassia, it's safe enough for me."
Marcus turned his back, crossing one arm over his chest and sighing heavily, pinched the bridge of his nose with the other hand. You're just not getting this! "The fact you believe that just goes to show naive you are," he said, through gritted teeth, his back still facing you. "Don't patronize me. I'm not a simpelton," you snapped, moving closer still. "I'd never go anywhere on my own. I trust Cassia. You can't just lock me away here for the rest of my life!" Marcus dropped his hand, looking at you over his shoulder in disbelief. "I'm not trying to lock you away, damn it!" he turned back towards you, his voice growing louder with frustration. "I'm trying to keep you safe!" You are both practically chest to chest now, neither of you willing to concede. The tension in the room is reaching boiling point. "I didn't leave one prison for another!!" you yelled.
Marcus' jaw dropped, a moment later his eyes turned dark and cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he growled lowly. Shit, you shouldn't have said that. It's not true, you know that and you immediately wish you could take it back. But before you could, Marcus spoke, his voice laced with hurt. "After everything we've been through, everything we've done for each other, that's how you see me; as some kind of captor?" "Marc-" "Why am I even bothering!" Marcus exploded. "Do what you wish from now on, see if I care. Go on out there..." Marcus raised his arm in a quick sweeping motion towards the outside and in that moment the atmosphere shifted. Your body, reacting on instinct flinched violently backwards, eyes closing and face turning away, waiting for the sting you've felt so may times to burn your cheek.
Only it didn't come. Marcus dropped his arm and froze, staring at you like he'd just been knifed in the heart. Shame wraps it's tendrils around you, heavy and crippling. What a stupid thing to do. Meeting Marcus' eyes, you notice them glisten as they soften. "Alia..." he breathed your name so delicately it almost made you cry. "I..." Marcus swallowed thickly, unwilling or unable to speak, you don't know. He then turned slowly, opened the door and walked through without looking back, leaving you alone.
*****
Guilt. That's what you feel now, that and remorse. Marcus had no right humiliating you like that in front of everyone but it doesn't excuse what you said. He has upended his entire life to make room for you and you threw it back in his face. Urrgh, his face; no matter how much you try, you can't escape the image of those big brown eyes looking at you with disbelief. And then you went and made matters worse by cowering like a mouse just because he raised his arm, god's that was pathetic! What must he think of you? You dread to think given the crestfallen look on his face. It was as if you'd cut him open and left him with nothing. You're not sure how long you've been sitting out on your balcony, slipping further into self condemnation, but it must be getting late as the sun is beginning to set.
Your dinner sits cold and barely touched on your dresser. Marcus had sent Flavia with a tray and, while you appreciate the thoughtful gesture, you just didn't have the appitite. All evening you've been silently debating wether or not you should go to Marcus. You want nothing more than to apologise and move on from this but would he even want to see you right now? Your words had wounded him deeply and it's churning your gut up. You have to speak to him; the longer you leave it, the harder it will be for the both of you. Even if he's still angry and refuses to see you, at least you tried. Taking a deep breath, you rise from your chair and with your heart pounding you head for Marcus' chamber.
*****
Marcus sat at his desk, pouring over the documents for the household expenses. He doesn't need to do it, he's always on top of this stuff but right now he needs a distraction; anything to take his mind off of you and the fear he saw flash across your face earlier. He's seen that look once before, the same look you gave him months ago when you were forced into the cage that imprisoned him. He went too far, he sees that now. Instead of allowing his anger to get the better of him he should have tried to diffuse the situation. It crushes his soul that you thought he was about to strike you. As if he would harm even a hair on your head. He feels sick just thinking about it. Did he do the right thing leaving you alone? Is it the right thing to do now? How he longs to take you into his arms and apologise but he doesn't want to cause you any more fear. He'll give you space and when you're ready, you'll come to him... he hopes.
The villa is quiet as you walk through the lowly lit hallway to Marcus' room, as if the building itself is holding it's breath in anticipation. Standing at his door, you take a steadying breath, exhale slowly and tap gently. "Come..." Marcus' deep tone breaks the silence. You open the door and step inside. Marcus' head is lowered, deep in concentration with the parchments scattered over his desk. "Am I disturbing you?" you ask, meekly. Marcus' head snapped up, his look of surprise morphing into a look of relief. "Not at all," Marcus' insisted, rising from his chair. "Come in. Forgive me, I thought you were Silas. Please, sit," he said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. You close the door and sit down, Marcus sitting beside you, leaving more space than you would like. "Marcus, I came to apolog-" "I'm sorry about-" you both began at the same time, but stopped abruptly. A soft chuckle came from Marcus, which in turn drew a smile from you, the tension easing instantly.
"Please, you first," he urged. "I want to apologise for what I said to you. It was inexcusable and wrong of me. You didn't deserve that," you sighed. "Alia I-" "No please, let me say this," you placed your hand over Marcus' resting on the bed. "I didn't mean it. I was angry and I lashed out. It was so unfair of me to compare here to my village. You have no idea how grateful I am for everything you've done for me and continue to do." Marcus smiled, turning his hand over to hold yours. "I'm sorry too, Alia. I overreacted. I'm ashamed of myself for treating you the way I did. I swear I'm not trying to control your movements or stifle you..." Marcus paused, his face contorting with remorse, "...and I'm so sorry for frightening you. You have to know, I would never hurt you," his tone grew grave. "I'd die before I ever hurt you." Your heart aches for Marcus in this moment and you want to put him at ease. "I know you'd never hurt me. I'm sorry I reacted like that." Marcus' hand tightened around yours.
"Why are you apologising for that?" his voice strained in disbelief. "Because I saw how it hurt you." Marcus exhaled. "I don't want you to ever fear me." Standing, you pull Marcus to his feet and make him stand in front of you until his tall frame is towering over you. You place his arms around your body and wrap yours around his mid section, looking up earnestly into his eyes. "If I believed for one moment you'd ever hurt me I wouldn't be in your arms now. I trust you with my life, Marcus," you declare. "It's just sometimes my body reacts to tense situations and I can't control it, but it doesn't mean I believe you capable of causing me harm." Marcus let out a breath of relief, tightening his embrace and burying his head in your neck. "I love you, Alia," he whisperd into your ear. Your stomach gave a little flip as his words settled somewhere deep inside you, warmth and joy spreading through your chest. Pulling back, eyes wide, you loose yourself momentarily in Marcus' soft gaze.
"Y- you love me?!" Marcus smiled adoringly cupping your cheek. "With all that I am. I don't expect you to return the sentiment yet, I just wanted to tell- Omph!" Now Marcus' eyes widened as your lips crashed hungrily onto his, your fists clutching his tunic like you couldn't pull him close enough. A searing kiss of heat and tongues ensued, moans being swallowed by each other. After a few moments you break the kiss and pull back, breathless and flushed. "I love you too, Marcus," you gush, taking in every inch of his beautifully weathered face with your eyes. "So much!" The smile Marcus gives you makes your heart soar. He pulls you back into his body, practically devouring your mouth before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. A moan, slow and needy escapes you at his tantalizing touch and oh! Is that...? Yep, it's Marcus' erection brushing against your pelvis. Your own body responds with a sudden throb between your legs, warmth spreading to your lower belly and your heart beating faster.
You press your hips further into his already semi hard cock and Marcus groans as he becomes fully erect. "Marcus..." you whisper, voice thick with arousal, "I want you. I want all of you tonight." Marcus pulls back from kissing your neck, his expression a mixture of arousal, hope, and uncertainty. "Are you sure?" he asks, breathing heavily. "Yes," you nod, "I want to know you in every way possible." You press a slow kiss to his lips, "I don't want to hold back any longer." Without another second wasted, Marcus' hand slid around the back of your head, connecting your lips and pulling you flush against him. His hands slide down your waist and, squeezing your arse cheeks in his hands, he picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, letting out a surprised squeal. You could feel Marcus grin against your lips. "Do you feel what you do to me?" he purrs as he slides you lower until your clothed pussy is sitting atop his cock.
It's impossible to stifle the lustful gasp in your throat, even more impossible to stop yourself from pressing down onto him. Marcus walks you over to the bed as if you are weightless and with no impairment from his injured thigh. Your core throbs with raw, primal need. You can already feel yourself getting wet. This is it, you think to yourself as Marcus gently lowers you onto your back, his solid body hovering over yours. You're finally going to experience what it's like to have the man you love make love to you, something you never thought you'd have. Marcus begins to trail slow, wet kisses down your neck until he reaches your collarbone. "Can I take this off?" he asks, bunching your tunic in his hands. You nod, biting your lower lip and sit up, allowing him to pull it up and over your head. Despite the warm night air your skin breaks out in goosebumps. No one has ever seen you naked before and to be this bare in front of Marcus is both nerve wracking and exhilarating as his dilated pupils hungrily drink you in.
But then you remember the angry looking scar on oyur shoulder. Shit! You didn't think this through. Suddenly very self concious, you splay your hand over the scar in an attempt to hide it. Marcus, noticing your abrupt shift in demeaner and hand placment, furrows his brow. "My love...?" he soothes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "You don't ever have to hide from me. I want to see all of you." You shake your head, jaw tight, eyes averted. "I can't," you grimace, "it's so ugly." Marcus doesn't say a word; instead he sits back on his haunches and removes his own tunic, now as naked as you. Your eyes widen as you observe the man before you; wide strong shoulders, thick arms and a chest hardened and sculpted by years of training and battles, his belly is just the right amount of hard and soft with a trail of dark hair leading to... oh wow. You're no expert on male appendages (obviously), but it's undeniably big. It makes you wonder if it will even fit. As you rake your eyes back up along his body you notice the many scars, both old and more recent, littering his tanned skin.
He truly is breathtaking. Marcus takes your other hand and traces your fingertips along his damaged flesh. "Do you think these are ugly?" he asks, softly. Your eyes snap to his. What an absurd question. "Of course not!" you exclaim. "These mean you are still here; still alive. They're beautiful, Marcus." Marcus gives you a knowing smile. "The same is true of you." The sincerity in Marcus statement is enough to rid you of any lingering shame and with a grateful smile, you lower your hand. Marcus leans in, pressing a featherlight kiss to your scar. "Beautiful..." he murmers. Laying you down, his lips begin a descent to your chest, his tongue licking and savouring the taste of your skin. When his mouth settled around your hardened nipple your back arched upwards, your hands gripping his hair and your breaths becoming heavier.
Marcus' cock is almost painfully swollen now, every moan, every writhe beneath him fuelling his arousal to the point where he could come right now. He'd imagined exploring and worshipping your body for so long and now that he gets too, it's almost too much. No woman - and he's known a few intimately in the past - has ever made him feel like you do. It's like he's been waiting his whole life for you. His hands roam your smooth skin as he latches onto your other nipple and it takes all of his willpower to not grind his hips into the mattress. "Oh, Marcus...!" you gasp, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your other breast. Marcus kneads the soft mound causing you to arch even further, your legs falling open. Marcus slots his thigh between your legs and brings his mouth back to yours. The head of his cock rubs over your clit and you gasp at the sensation, opening your legs wider.
Marcus groans into your mouth, pressing himself against your core, every rub making you wetter. A mix of feelings cascade of you; love, lust, want, but also slight trepidation. This will be your first time and although you want this, want Marcus, a part of you is nervous. "Marcus, wait," you pant, breaking the kiss. Marcus stops and looks at you through blown pupils that make his eyes appear even darker. "Are you okay?" he rasps, just as breathless as you. You nod, "Yes, but before we go any further I need to tell you something." "What is it?" he probes, sitting up and pulling you with him. Oh god's, where to begin? Would confessing ruin the moment? Would your lack of experience put him off? Heat rises to your cheeks, this time from embarrassment. "I... uh...I don't- I mean..." you huff a nervous titter, looking down to your lap. "I've never done..." you trail off, looking up to meet Marcus' gaze and see recognition dawn on his face.
"You're a virgin," Marcus states, no judgement in his voice. You nod and sigh. "Yes. I know of sex and what needs to happen but... I've never done it. Are you dissappointed?" "Dissappointed?" Marcus says, increduliously. "By my lack of experience," you clarify. Marcus takes your face in both hands. "I could never be dissappointed in you my sweet girl," he kisses the tip of your nose. "You're perfect the way you are." Pressing your forehead to his, you let out a relieved sigh. "Alia, we don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready-" "I am ready, Marcus," you insist, "I just wanted you to know that I'm a little nervous." Marcus' arm snuck around your waist, his strength easily pulling you into him and he smoothed the apple of your cheek with his thumb. "It's okay," he smiled. "I'm going to take good care of you. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just say the word and we'll stop." You smile and nod eagerly, "Okay."
Finding each others' mouths once more, Marcus encourages you to lay down and settles his body between your legs, his stiff shaft straining in it's own skin. "I'm going to get you ready for me," he purrs, his fingers going to your moist slit. Coating two fingers in your arousal, he teasingly traces circles over your clit, watching raptly as your eyes roll back with a breathy moan. He begins at your neck, kissing and licking his way down to your tits, then to your stomach until he reaches your pubic mound. "W- what are you doing...?" You lift your head to see him. "Shhh... do you trust me?" Marcus hums, voice thick with desire. "Yes..." Marcus grins, eyes gleaming. "Good girl. I'm going to make you come on my tongue. Just relax. You'll enjoy this." As your head falls back, Marcus parts your thighs even further, relishing the sight of your clistening cunt. He kiseses up the inside of your thigh until his mouth reaches your folds. Gathering extra saliva on his tongue, he licks all the way from your perineum to your swollen clit in one long tortutous sweep.
Your instant moan is music to Marcus' ears and it spurs him on as he increases his ministrations, flattening his tongue on your lips and flicking your nub with the tip of his tongue. Your hips begin to tremble and buck and Marcus lays his arm across you, keeping you in place. "Oh my- Marcus!!" His name sounds heavenly falling from your lips in desperation and it sends a jolt of pure carnel desire through him, all the way down to his twitching member. He could happily spend the rest of his life between your legs, dragging out the most sinfully wonderful sounds from you. He now focuses his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking. His fingers skim across your entrance for a moment before he sinks one inside, your walls warm and silky around his digit. As he begins to stroke your tunnel, you gasp, your hands flying to his hair again as you buck up uncontrollably into his mouth. "Oh, t- that feels good! Keep going!" Marcus is only happy to oblige. He sinks a second finger in and begins curling his fingers along your velvety flesh.
He can feel your walls beginning to clamp as your pants and moans become louder and more desperate and, oh, how beautiful you sound. "Tell me..." he croones between licks, "have you ever touched yourself?" "Mmm... yes," you whisper. "Recently?" he smirked. "Y-yes!" Marcus swirled your clit again, fingers now pumping in and out of you, the squelch of your juices accompanying your wails of pleasure. "And what were you thinking about when you came?" "You, Marcus!" Your confession made Marcus delirious with pride. "That's my good girl," he praised, "Now let go and give me everything you've got." Marcus returned his mouth to your clit, swirling, flicking, sucking like a man possessed while his fingers sank even deeper until he found that spongy spot. Moments later your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers, your legs shaking, fists tightening with the cry that followed and warmth gushed all over Marcus'mouth. He lapped at your release, savouring every drop of your sweetness on his tongue.
Marcus raised his head, the sight of your heaving breasts making him smile. Crawling up over your body, he caged your head with his forearms, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. The look of pure fucked out bliss in your eyes might just be his new favourite thing. "How was that?" he smirked. "A-maz-ing..." your voice shuddered, a large smile breaking out. Marcus returned the smile. "I think you're ready for me now," he winked. Marcus situated himself between your legs, hooking one over his hip. Notching his weeping head at your hole, he looked into your eyes and slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside. The stretch is shocking, the intrusion causing you to tense slightly. Marcus stills, giving you time to adjust to his thickness. "Okay...?" he asks. "Yeah..." you answer, breathily, "just so big." Marcus smiles and it makes your chest flutter. "Just relax, you're doing so well," he says, encouragingly, kissing your shoulder.
After a few moments he pushes more of his length into you until a sudden sharp jab between your legs causes you jolt, sucking air in through your teeth. "It's alright. That's the worst of the pain over. It happens to every woman during her first time," Marcus reassures you. You weren't expecting that at all but with Marcus guiding you through everything and his obvious care for your comfort you find yourself relaxing around his girth, wanting to feel more of him. With a heavy breath in your ear, Marcus feeds the rest of his cock into you, filling you completely. He buries his face in your neck, his groan mixing with your own. "Fuck, you're so tight!" he says, marvel coating his words. Your hands, which were gripping his shoulders, slide to his back, feeling the muscles and scars that make up the man he is. "Marcus, move... please," you practically beg. You don't have to ask twice. Slowly, Marcus pulls his hips back, sliding his thick dick along every inch of your walls, then just as slowly, he pushes all the way back in and... OH FUCK! That feels good! More than good!
As Marcus' vieny manhood plunges in and out, your hands instinctivly grip his back harder until your nails are digging into his flesh, while a building warmth of ecstacy pulses low in your belly, tickiling every nerve ending you possess. You've pleaseured yourself before but this is on a whole other level! "M-Marcus! oh my- that feels..." "uh...I know," Marcus grunts as he thrusts deeper and harder, his heavy breaths and the feel of his his bare skin on yours reducing you to a state of lust and arousal you didn't think possible. Your swollen pussy flutters around his cock, heightening the sensation of being completely filled, each delicious drag of his meat taking you further and further towards euphoria. Marcus picks up the pace, pounding into you, the slap of sweaty flesh and pleasured moans filling the room. "Urgh, right there!" you whine when Marcus hits a spot that has you seeing stars. "Yeah? That feel good, sweetheart? Marcus smirked, sinking his teeth into your neck - not enough to hurt but enough to excite you. "Yes, don't stop!" And he doesn't; again and again, he thrusts and pumps in and out, in and out, your flesh and his becoming one.
Your hands grip his arse and you squeeze tightly as pressure swells up deep inside your pussy. "God's, you're incredible, Alia," Marcus praises you, his chest heaving with exertion. "I think I'm going to..." Marcus raises his head, desire and fire swirling in his eyes as they lock onto your own. "Come for me. Let me see what I do to you." With the deep timbre of his voice, the lust in his gaze and the force of his shaft you can hold on no longer. Wave after wave of rapturous pleasure bursts through your core, spreading to every part of your body, your hips shuddering of their own accord. You cry out but it's slightly muffled by the ringing in your ears, then you hear Marcus' voice, strained but supportive as you come down form your high. He continues to delve in and out of your soaked pussy, his own release moments away. With one last powerful thrust, he pulls out and empties his pulsating dick into his discarded tunic, throwing it onto the floor beside the bed. He then lowers himself gently on top of you, his lips crashing to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. You're both a sweaty, breathless tangle of limbs.
"You okay?" Marcus asks tentativly, smoothing back sweat soaked strands from your forehead, his gaze soft and hazy and his cheeks flushed. "Okay?" you giggle, cupping his face. "I'm fantastic! You're fantastic." Marcus grins from ear to ear. "That was so much more than I ever imagined it could be," you tear up, suddenly overwhelmed. "Peace, my love," Marcus cooed, wiping a tear from under your eye. He settles down beside you, taking you with him and tucking your body into his, your head nuzzling into his chest and leg draped over his waist. Marcus wraps his arms around you and you sigh contentedly. "Did you enjoy it?" you ask, strumming your fingers over the hairs on his broad chest. Marcus' hold around you tightened, his lips pressing into the crown of your head. "There is no word to describe how much I enjoyed it. You are everything to me, Alia. I love you so much." Tears fill your eyes again, your smile so big your jaw muscles ache. The love you have for Marcus swells in your chest, the intensity of it threatening to consume you. If this was your last night in this life, you'd regret not one moment of it. "I love you too, Marcus," you sigh dreamily, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. Marcus sighed in return, "Rest now, darling. I've got you."
Summary: Marcus fulfils his promise, new tensions threaten the peace in Rome and feelings can no longer be ignored.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, brief mention of smut (18+ only, minors DNI) enemies(ish) to lovers, slow burn, protective Marcus Acacius.
Word Count: 6, 699
Chapter 10 Devotion and Disorder
Breakfast had been slightly awkward for you and Marcus this morning. Instead of addressing the very obvious elephant in the room, Marcus seemed to prefer to keep the conversation light, maybe because of the servants present or (and you hope this is not the case) maybe it's because now he's had time to think about it, Marcus realises it was a mistake. But that can't be it. The way Marcus touched you, the way he looked at you last night spoke louder than any words could... or had you just been too hopeful? Even now as the carriage makes it's way to the Colosseum, the events of last night linger between you, like a silent companion, following where you go. Will neither of you bring it up? Will you both carry on like nothing happened? The thought of pretending that nothing has changed between you brings a physical ache to your chest, a part of you longing to address the issue.
But with the busy day fast unfurling now just doesn't feel like the right time, so as much as it gnaws at you you do your best to maintain a cool facade, chatting casually. However, you cannot help but notice Marcus' warm honey eyes soften even more than usual as you speak, his gentle smile lasting just that little bit longer. It makes it almost unbearable to keep eye contact with him but impossible to look away at the same time. Neither of you may be willing to speak of it yet, but the dynamic between you both has undoubtedly shifted, a newfound intimacy - that maybe has always been there, but never acknowledged - seems to have crossed that line with you last night and now there's no turning back. Marcus sits across from you, holding a mahogany box decorated with Guilloche around the edges on his lap. He'd sent a servant to collect it at the crack of dawn, eager to have it in his posession.
What may appear as a simple box to most people means so much more to you. Inside that box lays your future, your official documentation of citizenship. It doesn't matter that you can't read it, just it's existence is enough for you. It'll mean the beginning of the rest of your life. You hadn't realised you'd been staring at the box until Marcus spoke. "Are you nervous?" You shake your head, quickly anwering "No." But then with a sheepish expression, you confess, "Well... maybe a little." Marcus smiles comfortingly. "There's no need to be nervous. All you have to do is accept your parchment and thank the Emperors." "Yeah, that and have sixty thousand eyes upon me," you chuckle lightly, even though inside your pulse is already picking up. "Yes, that too," Marcus laughs with you. As if he can sense your inner turmoil, he leans forward, his hand settling over yours in your lap.
"Everything will be okay," he soothes and it's then you realise you'd been twiddling your fingers in uneasy anticipation. Marcus gently squeezes your hands, his warm, reassuring touch instantly drawing the nervous energy from your body. You nod in response, turning one hand over to clasp his and release a sigh as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. And what you see makes your breath stutter for a moment. Marcus eyes, full of tenderness and warmth, eyes that say 'I'm right here with you, you're safe.' Your heart swells and flutters in your chest. How did you become so fortunate to have someone like Marcus Acacius in your life? You must have done something right at some point for the gods to see fit to make your paths cross - even if it was under dire circumstances.
You want so much to tell Marcus how you feel, but where would you even begin? What he makes you feel is so much bigger and deeper than anything you've felt before, the intensity of it threatening to drown you in the most wonderful way. With the swell of emotions rising up your throat all you can do is embrace his hand tighter and smile, hoping that your eyes can express to him what your voice cannot.
*****
Water! What the hell?! Water in the Colossuem. And not just water, ships too! Marcus smirks as he comes to stand beside you in the imperial box. "How...?" a shocked laugh bursts from you, "H- how is this done?!" you ask in disbelief, unable to tear your eyes away from the huge behemoths floating in front of you. "The water is channelled through aquaducts and a lot of underground canals," Marcus explained, watching you take in everything in awe. "Amazing..." you breathed out, so quietly Marcus barely heard it. "I've never seen an actual ship before," you stated, still mesmerised. "Well then, it's a good thing you have such an upclose view. This will be impressive." Marcus pressed his hand to the small of your back, gently guiding you to take your seat. As you sat, the trumpets blared and the Emperors entered the box, accompanied by Julia, the crowds cheering as the announcer paid his respects to the two rulers and introduced today's battle.
Then the moment you'd been awaiting arrived with the announcers next words. "Before the battle commences, Justus Marcus Acacius, by permission of their graces, has a special announcement for us today." Marcus stood to the roar of the entire arena, made his way the the balcony with the parchment in hand and lifted an arm in salute, his mere presence eliciting a frenzy from the crowd. Dressed resplendently in ceremonial armour of pure white and gleaming gold, he looked more like a god than a man, his name sounding like fervent prayers from the lips of worshippers. Watching him exude confidence and grace, you cannot deny that Marcus Acacius is a sight to behold. Marcus lowered his arm, turned to bow to the Emperors and began addressing the crowd, the deep timber of his voice striking something deep inside you. It both soothed and excited you at the same time.
"I am not an orator or a politician, I am a soldier. I have seen bravery in men and women during war and today I wish to honour the bravery of one woman in particular. A woman, whom without her courage and intervention in the face of great peril, I would not be standing here addressing you today. A woman to whom I owe my very life; Alia of the Gutones." Marcus turned to you, arm outstretched, beckoning you to come and stand beside him. With a gulp and a deep breath you rise and join Marcus, thunderous applause and cheers reverberating all around you. Marcus gives you a wink before turning his attention back to the spectators. "Today, I fulfil my vow to her as you all bare witness..." Marcus holds out the document, "Alia, you are forthwith and forevermore a citizen of Rome. Congratualations."
Your breath left your lungs in a gush of joyful relief as you accepted the parchment, tears building behind your eyes. It's done. This here, is why you risked everything, why you left the only home you've ever known and travelled a dangerous world with people who were supposed to be your enemy. Marcus had not just kept his word, he'd gone above and beyond for you. No one - besides your parents and Farro - has ever shown you the care and devotion that marcus has. Inside your chest a wave of warmth and adoration for the man before you swept outward, overwhelming you to the point of giddyness. Gods, this man is everything to you; your joy, your security, your life. With Marcus by your side, you feel like you could take on the world and everything would be okay, he'd make sure of it. It's like he understands you like no one ever has, emboldens you... completes you. But what does that even mean?
Burying your confusion deep down, you tilt your head up at Marcus and smile wildly, happily soaking up as much of this moment as you can. "Thank you!" your voice slightly shakes with the overload of pure emotion. "Thank you General Acacius... Your Majesties," you acknowledge the Emperors with a kirtsy and they briefly nod at you. Bringing your eyes to meet Marcus' once more, you say, "I am eternally grateful for this great honour." And just like that, the crowd broke out into a deafening cheer, your name now being repeated over and over. "Hear that?" Marcus leand down so his mouth was level with your ear, hands clasped in front of him, keeping his eyes on the crowd. "That's all for you," he spoke lowly, voice like silk, warm breath tickling your ear.
It makes your insides flip and your knees weak. It's all you can do to not melt on the spot. You hope Marcus doesn't notice but... you also hope he does. "Wave to them," Marcus encouraged, laying a hand at the small of your back and extending his other arm out towards the the arena. This surely can't all be for you! Just having one person look upon you kindly is still so odd and here you are, being hailed and applauded by tens of thousands of people. Stunned, a light laughter of awe climbs up your throat and you raise your hand to the multitude of faces, who now sound even more enthused by your aknowledgment. After a few moments Marcus guided you back to your seat, settling in next to you as the announcer heralded the beginning of the battle. On the other side of the thrones (where you and Marcus couldn't see), Julia and Macrinus shared a murderous look and a silent nod.
*****
You'd left the Colosseum with mixed feelings. Marcus wasn't kidding when he'd said the battle would be impressive. From the sheer size of the ships and the damage they'd wrought, to the ferocity of the fighters, it definitely left a lasting impression on you. And while you'd enjoyed the pageantry of it all, the deaths left a bitter taste in your mouth. Even though the men were criminals or prisoners of war, death is something you'll never enjoy watching, especially for sport. But this is a big part of Roman life, so you know you'll have to get used to it, especially now that you are a citizen. A Citizen! It's still so surreal, like a dream. If you weren't holding onto your document like it's the most precious thing in the world to you - and it just might be - you'd be certain you would wake any second to find this all to be a great fantasy.
But no, this is real and you can't keep the smile off your face as you scan the writing and the official seal. "It's not going to disappear if you glance away from it," Marcus chuckled as he observed you from the opposite seat in the carriage. Your eyes met his, your smile growing and the sight warmed Marcus' heart. He's not sure if he's ever seen anyone so elated, so radiant and his chest swells with pride knowing he's made all of this possible for you. Heaven's, he'd give you the world if it means you'll keep smiling at him like you are now. "I just can't believe it's finally happened," you beam, pure joy dancing in your eyes. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for this, Marcus." Marcus shook his head, his smile softening. "You deserve it. You deserve every good thing life has to offer."
Marcus doesn't miss the blush creeping over your cheeks as you look down coyly and it hits him deep inside his gut; how much he wants to reach out and hold you in his arms again. Images of last night re-emerge; you, small and soft in his embrace, your face, expectant and full of desire and the ghost of your lips as they lightly brushed his. And suddenly it's clear. He doesn't just want to have your body, but your heart too, to keep, to cherish and to protect, forever. He's fallen for you, deeply and irrevicably and he didn't even see it coming. The realisation leaves Marcus momentairily stunned. He studies your face as your gaze roves your parchment again, an idea emerging. "If you wish to be able to read it, I could hire a tutor for you."
Your head shoots up, your eyebrows raised. "Oh, that's very generous of you, Marcus, but it's not necessary." "Would you like to be able to read it yourself?" Marcus asked, nodding to the document on your lap. "Well, yes but-" "Then it's settled," the corner of Marcus' mouth quirked. "But the expense-" "Don't worry about that..." Marcus raised his palm to stop you, "it's not an issue." You raise one eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "And if I insist you don't waste your money on me...?" you countered. Marcus shrugged, a satisfied expression growing on his face. "Then I'd have to insist it's not a waste." "You're impossible," you say with a lighthearted chuckle. Marcus shrugs again, laughing with you. "Thank you," you whisper after a moment, looking straight into, not his eyes but his very soul and it makes his breath seize. He should feel vaulnerable, but he doesn't. He feels seen and content to be seen by you. Oh, he is well and truly fucked.
*****
After arriving back at the villa Marcus had informed you that he'd be away until dinner time; important business with the Emperors and the war council, apparantly. Poor guy can't seem to get a break even when he's recovering from an injury. It's a good several hours until dinner and in the meantime you wish to keep yourself busy and you smile to yourself, knowing just what to do. Marcus has been exceptionally kind and attentive to you since your arrival in Rome and you would love to return some of that kindness and do something for him for a change. Obviously, there aren't many options for you but the one thing you always enjoyed as a child was cooking. Morning's spent with your mama, preparing the days' meal are some of your most cherished memories. And today, you'll prepare something special, just for Marcus, to show him how much you appreciate him.
Going in search of Cassia, it doesn't take long to find her, refilling the oil in the braziers. "Hi, Cassia?" you approach with a big smile on your face. "Good afternoon, Alia," Cassia smiles with a respectful nod, giving you her full attention. "I'd like to do something for Mar- for the Dominus," you correct yourself in front of her. "Of course. Is there anything I can do to help?" Cassia asks. "There may be..." you begin, a mischievous hint in your voice. "What are the odds that Claudia will let me into her kitchen?" Cassia huffs and amused laugh, "Not great. She runs that kitchen stricter than a warship." You can't help but laugh at the thought of the little plump woman barking orders with authority. "Maybe you could help me convince her. I'd like to cook a meal from my homeland for the Dominus as a thank you for everything he's done for me. Maybe if we explain it's a special favour for the Dominus, she'll understand." Cassia nodded, a playful grin on her face. "There's only one way to find out. Brace yourself."
Standing in the entryway to the kitchen you can see why Cassia had told you to brace yourself. Despite her small stature, the plump middle aged woman was certainly a force to be reckoned with, giving off a 'no nonsense' vibe as she ordered the kitchen servants about. You almost chuckled but then she noticed you and Cassia standing in the doorway and she stilled, questioning eyes locked on you. "My Lady?" she hesitated. "You shouldnt be in here." She then directed her gaze to Cassia. "Is something the matter?" You stepped closer. "I would like to cook todays dinner; a surprise for the Dominus." "Absolutely not," Claudia shook her head, looking almost scandalised. "The kitchen is no place for a Lady."
"Well..." Cassia began, "techniquely, she doesn't have the title of a Lady, so you could make an exception?" Claudia seemed to think it over for a few seconds. "Please..." you smile, softly. "It would mean a lot to me to be able to repay the Dominus for his hospitality." With a resigned sigh, Claudia placed her hands on her hips. "On Two conditions," she emphasised the word Two. You silently waited for her to continue. "One, you don't destroy my kitchen..." You had to suppress a laugh. "Agreed" "Two, if the Dominus is dissatisfied with tonight's course, I'm not to be held accountable." "I'll take full responsability," you promise, giving her a hopeful look. "Very well..." Claudia relents and motions for you to follow her. "Thank you," you whisper to Cassia before leaving her and getting to work.
*****
"The best course of action would be to pull the army back from the Vistla River Basin and fully secure a large area of resource rich territory we've already taken," Marcus insisted as he studied the map sprawled out on a table at the Curia Julia. A mix of voices, some in consensus, some uncertain filled the hall. For hours he'd been surrounded by members of the war council, a select number of senators and the Emperors. "Pull back?" Emperor Caracalla scoffed. "To what purpose? As you said, we've already taken that territory." "Yes Your Grace," Marcus forced a neutral tone with great effort. "But we have not been utilizing the area and it's resources to our full advantage. The Gutones have proven to be stronger than anticipated and the losses we've suffered for underestimating them have been too great. If we are to succeed, we have to temporarily retreat, to gather more materials for weaponry while awaiting the arrival of new troops and supplies."
"Our sources tell us the army is gaining ground despite the setbacks," Emperor Geta said. "But the cost is proving too much," a member of the war council spoke up. "We are advancing slowly but we're losing too many men and it'll take weeks for reinforcements to arrive. I agree with General Acacius," the man said. "A temporary retreat for an everlasting victory." "If we retreat, even temporarily, we will appear weak," Geta objected. "Maybe that would work in our favour," Marcus ventured. "Let them believe we are weak. Let them underestimate us. And all the while we'll just be strengthening our forces. It's too risky to keep pushing forward at the moment." Geta seemed to think it over while Caracalla had already lost interest and had began to fuss with Dondus. More Murmurs of agreement sounded. "Is everyone in accordance of this plan?" Geta said, looking around the room, all the men voicing their agreement.
"Very well, we shall trust your judgment General Acacius," Geta concurred. "Now, is that all?" "Your Graces..." A aged, light haired senator stood foward. "It has recently come to our attention that unrest has began to stir again amongst the populace." Marcus stiffend at those words. "Yes yes, we've heard all about it, Gracchus," Caracalla said casually while still playing with Dondus. "Rest assured the Praetorians will quell it just like the previous incidents." "With all due respect, Your Grace, these aren't isolated pockets of unrest," Gracchus pointed out. "This time it is more widespread. The lowest in society are struggling. The taxation for the war and the amount of crops being sent to the army is having a disastrous effect on the poorest men and their families." Geta gave a nonchalant shrug. "Those who cannot feed should not breed."
Marcus couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could these boys not care about their own people? Is this the Rome he now fights for? By the looks on many of the faces of the senators he's not the only one appalled. "Rome has so many subjects, she must feed them all," Marcus declared, masking his disgust the best he can. "They can eat war!" Caracalla giggled in his chair, causing some confused looks from the senators and the war council. Even Geta appeared perplexed at his brothers' outburst, for a moment. "During times of war, everyone must make sacrifices," Geta stated, with complete disregard. Senator Gracchus, however, appeared eager to make the Emperors take the situation more seriousy. "I fear if this is not resolved soon it could take us all to a dark place. Desperate people do terrible things."
Geta and Gracchus stared at each other for a moment, Geta now seeming to understand what's at stake. Geta called the attention of one of his Preatorean Guards. "Assign extra Preatorians to patrol the streets. Let it be known there will be zero tolerance for insurgents." "Yes, Your Majesty," the guard replied. Marcus felt like screaming into a cushion... or maybe using it to smother this idiot. It's useless placing a bandage on a broken leg. Unless you get to the very core of the issue it'll never heal. It looks like they're determined to learn the hard way. When the meeting finally came to end and he stepped outside into the fresh air, Marcus took a deep breath. A new wave of worry swept over him. If what Gracchus said is true, Rome could be in for some hard times. He can only hope the reports have been exaggerated.
*****
Marcus dismounted his horse in the courtyard of the villa, handing the reins to the stable hand. Upon entering the villa, he found himself automatically seeking you and the soothing effect you have on him. After todays revelation he needs it. Stepping into the garden, Marcus frowned when he found it empty. With the daylight hours drawing out he'd often find you out here. Where could she be? "Flavia...?" Marcus called as the servant passed by. "Yes, Sir...?" she bowed her head. "Have you seen Alia?" "She's waiting for you in the Triclinium, Dominus." Marcus' frown eased. "Thank you," he said. Marcus entered the Triclinium to find you standing beside his seat with that beaming smile he's grown to love almost blinding him. The next thing he noticed was the smell. A rich and spicy aroma filled the room. It was unlike any aroma he's smelled before. It smelled delicious.
"What's all this?" Marcus cocked his head, his smile a mixture of amusement and confusion. "Come, sit..." you gestured eagerly to his seat. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done, for everything you've made possible, so I cooked you a special meal," you say, a hint of coyness in your voice. "It's an old recipe my mama taught me when I was a child. I uh... hope you'll like it." Marcus sat down and looked at the plate before him, his heart swelling at your thoughtful gesture. "You made all this...?" he asked, taking in the strange circular, flat pieces of meat, buttered potatoes, green beans and brocolli covered in mushroom sauce." His stomach rumbled at the sight. "You didn't have to do all this," Marcus insisted as you took your seat. "I wanted too," you shrugged. "Thank you, Alia. This smells incredible. What's it called?" Marcus took a bite of the meat, and was pleasently surprised by the burst of unique flavours on his tongue.
"Frikadellen," you answered, taking a bite of your own. "This is delicious," Marcus exclaimed, taking a bigger piece this time. The look of pride on your face at his praise is the best thing he's seen all day. "I'm glad you like it," you blush. "I'd like anything made by you," Marcus replied, watching as your smile spread to your eyes and your head dipped to your plate, as if you didn't know what to do with the compliment. He found it adorable. "So, this Frikadellen is a family recipe?" Marcus asked around another bite. "Yes, my mama taught me a lot of recipes. This is one of my favourites." Marcus saw how your expression dropped slightly into a wistful look and he wished for you to share the pain you've lived with for so long, just so he could bear some of the burden.
"I'm sure your mother and father would have been proud of you, Alia." When your eyes rose to meet Marcus' they glistened with tears. "It's just a meal," you smiled ruefully. Marcus knew what you were doing; trying to make light of a sensitive subject by deflecting but he wanted you to know he's serious. "I didn't mean for this," Marcus pointed to the plates. "They'd be proud of the woman you've become. You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. Despite everything you've been through, it hasn't tainted you; hasn't made you bitter. You didn't allow anyone to break your spirit. They would be proud of you," Marcus insisted, "I am too." A little sigh escaped you. "Thank you, Marcus," your voice shook a little, "you've no idea what that means to me." You both continued your meal, talking well into the night, the conversation steering towards more casual and lighthearted topics and neither of you wanted the night to end.
The next morning after the days' entertainment had finished, you and Marcus climbed into the carriage to leave for home... or so you thought. "We're not going home?" you questioned when you realised the carriage started heading in the opposite direction to the villa. "Not yet," Marcus replied, a little smile tugging at his mouth. "So where are we going?" "It's a surprise," Marcus said, cryptically. You sat back, crossing your arms, scrutinizing Marcus with intrigue. "A surprise? What are you up to Marcus?" Marcus laughed softly. "You'll just have to wait and see." Half an hour later, Marcus pulled out a strip of cloth. "We're almost there. Here, tie this around your eyes." You regarded the cloth then looked to Marcus, one eyebrow raised.
"Trust me," Marcus urged. "You don't want to ruin the surprise." Obligingly, you tied the cloth around your eyes, all the while becoming more curious. Several minutes later, the carriage pulled to a stop. Marcus exited first, then reached out to take your hands. "It's okay, I've got you," he crooned as you stepped down, one of his hands settling on your waist to steady you. The intimate contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, excitement tingling up your spine. When his hands suddenly left you, disappointment crashed over you and you secretly mourned the loss of his touch. You heard Marcus walk behind you to the carriage, giving instructions to the driver to return in a few hours. The rumble of the carriage grew distant and you could sense Marcus now standing beside you.
"Can I take this off now?" "Okay, go ahead," Marcus answered. Bright light assaulted your eyes as you pulled off the blindfold, forcing you to squint, but then you saw it; what you can only assume is Heaven on Earth. Before you lay a long stretch of almost white sand nestled between two rocky headlands, creating the shape of an arc. Ocean, rich in hues of blue and green, blending effortlessly like the many colours in the paintings you've seen throughout the city, shimmer under the suns' rays. "Marcus!" you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away. No other words came forth, only an exhale of wonderment wrapped in a disbelieving smile. "You said you'd never seen the sea before," Marcus smiled warmly, reveling in the look of elation on your face. "I want you to experience all the things you've missed out on, and this is one of the most beautiful beaches around."
With unrestrained excitement, you give Marcus a blinding grin, grabbing his hand. "Come on." You surge forward, pulling him with you, down a gentle slope leading to the sand. Just before reaching the beach, you stop to remove your sandals. The sand is warm and fine around your sinking toes. The cry of sea gulls, the gentle slosh of the almost perfectly still water and the smell of brine on the breeze invade your senses. A feeling of peace blankets you in this serene moment. "This is..." you struggle to find the word for a moment. "Perfection," you gush, turning to Marcus, who has been watching you intently the whole time, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Thank you for bringing me here." Marcus set down the basket you hadn't realised he'd been carrying, pulled out a large blanket and spread it over the sand. "It's my pleasure." His eyes crinkled with his warm smile.
"Would you like to have a look around first or eat first?" "Let's look around," you answer quickly, gaining a chuckle from Marcus at your enthusiasm. Marcus removed his shoes and cloak, draping it over the basket to keep direct sunlight off it and strolled with you towards the shore. "Wow," you exclaim as you reach the waterline. "It's so clear." Gathering your skirt in your hands, you pull it up to just above your knees and wade into the lapping water. "And it's warm!" You were expecting that icy chill that always shocked your system when you went swimming in the lake by your village. Marcus didn't answer. He couldn't; not when your bare legs were on display. He quickly glanced around, making sure no one else was nearby. Surely you know it's inappropriate to show your legs in public. But then again, how could you?
It hasn't exactly come up in conversation. And judging by your obliviousness as you skip and wade through the water, you have no idea. Should he say something? But how could he without embarrassing you and himself. Marcus returned his gaze to you, deciding it's best to say nothing as you are the only two people here. He knew he shouldn't be looking, but damn it, he's just a man. As his eyes travel the length of your legs a sinful thought occurred; how they would feel wrapped around him, squeezing him - No! Marcus tore his eyes from your legs as he fought to supress the blood rushing to his dick, making him semi hard. Thank goodness his tunic is loose. "Marcus, come on!" you call over your shoulder as you walk further out, the water now up to your thighs.
Marcus smiled to himself as he followed you further in, calf deep. "Don't go too far," he warned lightly. "It drops off a bit further out." You flash him a big grin and hold out your hand, again beckoning him closer. "I'm fine by here," he said, shaking his head. A teasing smirk pulled at your lips. "Is the General afraid of a little water?" "Not the water," he laughed. "Just the enchanting Siren trying to lure to my death." A genuine laugh burst from you. Who would have thought the usually reserved and stoic General to be so funny. You hope you can coax this side of his personality out more often. Marcus remains where he stopped, slowly strolling in the shallows. If it's the last thing you do, you'll get him to come further out and when he does... The threat of a devilish grin almost betrays your intentions.
"Arrgh!" you gasp, suddenly, looking down into the water around your legs. "What is it?!" Marcus rushed to your side. Perfect! "I don't know!" you lay on the fake panic. "Something just touched... ME!" On the last word you leapt at Marcus, wrapping your arms around his neck, using your body weight to topple him... or at least that was the plan. The man barely moved! Momentary shock flashed across Marcus features which then morphed into understanding and he wrapped his arms tightly around your body, pinning you to him. "That was not a wise idea..." he quipped, a look of cunning in his eyes, "attacking the General of Rome." A soft tut followed while you laughed and squirmed in his grasp. "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."
"Mercy!" you screamed at the very moment Marcus threw himself backwards, taking you under with him. When you both broke the surface, it was to the sound of pure unadulterated laughter. You've seen Marcus smile many times, heard his gentle laughter, but this... this is different. The deep unbidden rumble, the way his eyes shone projected a youthfulness that belied his age. Before you is a much younger Marcus Acacius; one without the baggage and emotional scars of a war weary General. It made your heart soar and crack simultaneously. Laughter still ringing out between you, you splash water in his face. "That wasn't fair! You had an advantage over me." Marcus gave you a smug grin.
"Many men have tried and failed to take me down. Did you really think you stood a chance?" "You could have let me best you," you sass him. Marcus playfully rolled his eyes. "And where's the fun in that?" Standing to his full height, Marcus held out his hand to help you stand. As you rose up from the water you noticed Marcus' gaze stall on your chest for just a fleeting moment, his eyes alight with what looked like raw desire before he quickly composed himself and snapped his eyes to yours. But his pupils remained blown and intense. The moment made your breath catch. "The... uh... food's probably getting warm in the basket," Marcus stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "We should... uh... eat." He gave you a tight smile and began to walk back to the basket.
What the hell was that? you wondered in bewilderment, looking down to - oh shit! In all the commotion you hadn't realised the thin fabric of your clothing now clung tightly to your body like a second skin, your pebbled nipples poking through the material. Your first reaction is burning shame. Shame that Marcus had seen you so intimately, but then another feeling took over. You felt ecxited, aroused even. A part of you liked that he saw you and you liked what you saw in his eyes. He does feel something for you, he does want you. After the almost kiss last night you'd feared maybe Marcus had realised he'd made a mistake, that he doesn't feel for you that way and that's why he'd not tried again or even spoke of it. It hurt, of course, but you didn't want to risk your friendship by bringing it up, so you'd also carried on like normal.
But that one moment of eye contact exposed something within Marcus that he'd likely been guarding as much as you have. "Are you coming?" Marcus called over to you, bringing you out of your thoughts. "Oh, um yes." Grabbing your skirt, you followed Marcus up the beach, wringing out excess water along the way. You join Marcus on the blanket as he unpacks the basket, setting up a light lunch of Tracta (flatbread pastry), cheese, boiled eggs and of course figs. A smile creeps onto your face, wondering if he'd ensured they were included because of the fuss you'd made of them before. While eating at a leisurly pace you and Marcus quickly fall into light conversation, both of you ignoring what had just happened. Thankfully the light material of your dress had already began to dry so you didn't have to worry about hiding your chest.
A little while had passed, food long gone and you were beginning to feel the effects of the unforgiving sun. You suggested cooling off in the sea, to which Marcus declined but insisted you go ahead. Wading into the water, you scoop some up and splash it over your face and shoulders, the coolness refreshing on your overheated skin. Looking to your right you notice a long jetty nearby, poking out into the bay and decide to make your way over to it. Marcus watched as you strolled lazily in the shallows, then stepped up onto the jetty, looking like you don't have a care in the world as you walk the length of it. Taking in the beach around him, his mind wandered back to a time when his mother would bring him here - her happy place as she would call it. Memories of hours of fun are held here and he hopes maybe you could make some happy memories here too.
A sudden splash caused Marcus' head to spin in your direction, the jetty now empty and a clear disturbance in the water next to it. Ice and adrenaline surged through his veins, propelling him forward, running faster than he ever has in his life to where you were moments ago. Taking a deep breath he dived in. Through blurred vision he saw your form in the crystal clear water. After what felt like an eternity, he reached you, hooked his arms tightly around your waist and kicked furiously until his head broke the surface. Sucking in deep, panicked breaths Marcus turned to his side, one arm tight around you and the other stretched out in front of him as he made a desperate swim for the shore. "M- Mar-!" You tried to speak but the water kept sloshing over your mouth, stealing your voice. "Marc- Marcus! Marcus let-" more water splashed your face as you found yourself being dragged along. If he'd just hear you and let go you could bloody breathe!
As soon as you both reached the shallows Marcus charged through the water, still clutching your body against his like you weighed nothing. "Marcus! I'm okay, you can let go," you stressed, trying to free yourself from his grip. In ankle deep water Marcus dropped to his knees taking you down with him. He spun you around, hands gripping your upper arms and his frantic, wild eyes darting all over your body. "Are you hurt?!" he panted, urgency lacing his voice. "No, I'm fine," you try to reassure him, while catching your breath. "I didn't fall, I jumped." "What?!" Marcus' eyes widend in both fear and confusion. "I- I can swim. I was just diving down to see the the rocks and fish," you smile at him placatingly. "Fucking hell! I thought- I mean- I heard a noise and when I looked up you were gone! I thought you were dead!" Marcus' grip tightened as he pulled you closer to him- subconciuosly or not, you're not sure. The raw agony in his voice and on his face caused your chest to clench.
"I thought I'd lost you!" Marcus' eyes froze on yours for a split second with a burning intensity, then, looking like a man with nothing left to lose, he crashed his lips onto yours. For a moment you froze, wide eyed, your brain finding it hard to comprehend that Marcus is kissing you, he's actually kissing you! And just like that, your entire body relaxed as you mentally and emotionally sank into the kiss, your arms coming up to wrap around Marcus' neck. A soft moan escapes you of it's own accord, which only seemed to encourage Marcus. His hands slide to your back and he pulls your body against his, deepening the kiss and molding you to him like he can't be close enough to you. With your senses heightened, you can feel your pert nipples pressing against his hard chest, lust and longing swelling with the desire you have for this man.
One hand moves to gently cup the back of your head before Marcus breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You are both breathless now, but not from swimming. "Don't. you. ever. scare me like that again. Do you hear me?" Marcus exhaled, his voice a mixture of fear and relief. "I'm sorry," you whispered guiltily. "I didn't mean to." "You almost gave me a damn heart attack," he half chuckled but still sounded frazzled. You bring your hand to cup Marcus' jaw, tilting his head so his eyes meet yours. "I'm sorry," you repeat softly then kiss him again.
a/n: So I've watched the movie like 6 times at this point and I just really love Clint lol. I have some things planned out and I cannot wait to write them, hopefully you all love what I come up with. Shout-out to @just-here-for-the-moment for encouraging me and for putting up with my endless questions and voice notes! 💕xoxo
Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, pornography (watching while getting freaky) POV sex (wrap it up) Clint not pulling out, oral sex (male receiving)*swallowing*, dirty talk, nipple play, shitty dad (neglect), absent mother (abandonment issues), allusions to illegal activity, domestic violence, daddy kink, secret relationship, **DRAMA** Hurt/comfort, period piece - takes place in 1987, let me know if I missed any!
Pairing: Clint Flood x F!Reader
Ko-fi link 🥲💕
word count: 5.4k
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist series Masterlist
---
Thursday morning finds you in a very different mood than the previous week.
You huff about it on your way to the bathroom, pout through the daily rituals with unwanted thoughts of Jen’s words. You mentally shove them away for the hundredth time, lock and bar the doors but they slither in regardless, like smoke.
You take a deep breath and sigh a deep sigh, drying your face off before continuing with your routine. His smile is there too, along with the blood and the violence, the soft slide of his fingertips across your neck, the plush press of his lips against your mouth, the toe-curling stroke of his tongue, his cock. Surely a man who pleasures you like that would never hurt you?
Your fathers voice is raised, argumentative over the phone hanging on the kitchen wall, enough so that he doesn’t register your presence until he slams the handset onto the receiver.
“Everything okay?” You ask him despite yourself, it’s not as though he tells you anything. He grunts in response.
“You working today?” He shoves different papers into his pockets, grabbing his keys from the counter.
“No, it’s Thursday–”
“Okay, I’ll be back later, probably late.” He huffs, shaking his head in annoyance, at what—you don’t know, don’t entirely care. He leaves, thankfully taking that annoyance with him.
Clint shows up a couple of hours later with a tape in his hand, and a mischievous look on his face. For a split second, Jens words echo, they project blood onto his clothes and splatter it onto his face. He smiles bigger though, leans in and kisses you soft and sweet, the vision dies and it seems almost absurd to even dwell on what may or may not have happened so long ago.
“Hi baby.” Cigarette smoke and his cologne mingle and flood your nose as well as your panties when he pulls you in close, when his mouth captures yours. You don’t respond, only pull him closer, wrap your arms around him tighter; enjoy the comforting strength.
“I’m not dressed–” Your eyes fall to your ratty old sweatpants, the holey t-shirt.
“I think you look very cute, very comfortable.” He steps inside and shuts the door. “I thought it might be fun to watch a movie, stay in, order a pizza. How does that sound?” The idea is perfect, after standing on your feet for hours on end at the store, a quiet night in is just what you need. The tape clutched at his side draws your eye but he slips it behind his back. He smiles, one eyebrow raised.
“What did you rent?” You try to peek again but he tsks, angling himself to keep it hidden.
“You’ll know when you know.” You huff, pouting and it only makes his smile grow.
“You’re such a little brat huh? I said you’ll know, when you know.” He taps the tip of your nose, laughing at the way you narrow your eyes, at the way you scrunch up your nose.
“Fine, so bossy–wait, are we watching here?”
“I think it’s best we go back to my place, and why don’t you go ahead and pack a bag.” Your heart skips a beat, your stomach drops down to your socked feet. He must see the shock on your face.
“Or, I could bring you back if you don’t feel comfortable staying over—“
“No! No I’d love to, give me a few minutes!” You surge forward, pulling a smiley oomph out of him before running up to get yourself together.
Your hands shake.
The soft, comfy pyjamas you usually wear don’t seem right. They sit in one hand, while a silkier, newer pair sits in the other. You toss the silky set into the open duffel bag. Clean, cute underwear join the bag, along with your basic toiletries, a clean pair of jeans–and your video store t-shirt, just in case he ends up driving you directly to your shift tomorrow.
He’s leaning against the counter when you jog back down the stairs, tapping the mystery tape against his leg. Wordlessly, he grabs the duffel from your hand and leads you out of the house.
-
A fluffy, grey thing winds through your legs, almost tripping you.
“Louis, manners.” Louis meows back, and you laugh.
“Hi buddy.” He butts his head into your hands when you crouch down. He’s so soft, so sweet, purring and chirping at you. “You’re just a little softie aren’t you?”
“Just shamelessly flirting with my girl huh? You little monster.” The casual way he claims you makes your face hot. It's not overt, or aggressive and when he smiles and makes his way inside you’re sure he’s unaware of what it’s done to you. The feeling is so foreign. No one has ever called you theirs before, not in this way, not with such a quiet certainty.
The smile lingers, aches in your cheeks when you pick up the big cat and carry him with you towards his cozy living room.
“So, can I know what we’re watching now?” He grunts on one knee, says nothing as he slips the tape into the VCR. There’s a gleam in his eye when he turns towards you.
“I think it’s best if we put Louis into my room, I don’t want him interrupting us.” It’s hard to work out what he means by that, but you make yourself comfortable on his couch regardless. My girl, you think, snuggling into the well-worn leather of his couch. Dustmotes dance in the shafts of light coming in through his window, a vision of slow afternoons with him float through your mind–what would it be like to live here? To have a life with him?
“Okay—“ there’s an energy about him, something electric, excited, eager, “I can guarantee it’s not a movie you’re expecting, but it’s something I really wanna watch with you.” He settles into the sofa, pulling you from your corner, and from your thoughts.
The smell of his cologne pulls your face into his neck, the warmth of it melds with the cigarettes he smokes, makes him completely irresistible. He hums to himself when you kiss just below his ear.
“I think you’re gonna like it.” There’s that undercurrent again, a knowing, a plan—
The tv screen flashes blue before the movie starts. Music you don’t recognize plays, FBI warnings flash across the screen and you watch, confused as to what it might be until you see her.
“Clint… is this…?”
“It’s porn.” His nose skims up your neck, his hands tighten around your thighs, your eyes remain glued to the screen though. It’s a little jarring how much she looks like you. Your heart races, your stomach drops and despite how confused you are over what you actually think about this whole thing, arousal pools in your belly; a deep pull, like something tugging behind your bellybutton.
The image of her, bubbly and laughing, flirting shamelessly with the single dad, the much older man holds almost all of your attention.
“She’s pretty…” he whispers in your ear, his smile is sharp when your head whips around to face him. “Nowhere near as pretty as you baby, but it could be you. You see it right?” His eyes turn to the girl on the screen, the scene has shifted dramatically, from flirting, to kissing and groping, you cannot help but watch.
“Same eye shape, same cute little smile, and look at him—could be my brother.” And it could, the man on the screen is nowhere near as hot as Clint, but he’s the same type, greying, handsome and broad as hell.
“And doesn’t she just love it when he touches her…look how wet she is…” the scene has shifted again, both of them are naked now and she really does seem to like the way the older man touches her, you can’t really blame her—
“Just like you huh? Your pussy gets so fucking wet when I touch you doesn’t it baby, I bet it’s wet right now.” A moan slips out and he laughs low. His voice, the images on his tv, his hand slipping between your legs to cup your cunt, it all drives you mad. Jealousy burns hot within at the thought that he’d want to watch this at all, but it’s tempered by the resemblance, it’s spiced with the possessive way he holds you to him. It’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced.
“Talk to me, pretty baby, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” he pauses the movie, “I—it’s a lot, my heart is racing right now.” You let out a nervous laugh, his fingers press softly to your chin and turn your face to look him in the eye.
“Do you want me to turn it off? I won’t make you watch it if it’s not turning you on. We can stop this whole thing and do something else.” The smile curls your lips up.
He would turn it off if you told him to, he’d probably take you right back to the video store and let you pick out another movie if you expressed any discomfort at his plan. Embers burn in your chest at the thought, a sticky heat that feels like genuine care, genuine feelings for this man fill you to the brim.
The paused image of this alternate version of you shines on the screen, frozen in absolute pleasure, a hand on her breast, a tongue on her clit.
“I wanna keep watching, but I want us wearing less.” It’s hard to get the words out without trembling, or feeling awkward but you do it anyway.
He smiles, presses play, and pulls you closer.
Clothes come off, your shirt and your jeans pile up alongside his shirt and slacks around you. The older man is feeding his cock into her mouth by the time you’re both naked. He was right about the state you’d be in, your panties shine with the clear, slippery evidence, his cock stands at attention.
“No, I want you facing the tv. We’re gonna watch.” You’re halfway to straddling him when he stops you and turns you around. A sharp bite to the meat of your ass makes you squeal, and then he sits you in his lap, and not on his cock.
“Look at that. She’s good at sucking dick… I bet you are too, aren't you baby?” His chin rests over your shoulder, “I bet you would look so fucking pretty with daddy’s cock in your mouth.”
The thought makes you squirm, makes you rub your thighs together in his lap. His hands slide across your belly, slide up to hold the weight of your breasts and then focus on your nipples. It’s a torture the way he touches you, soft flicks at the sensitive peaks, slow circles that end with them pinched gently, and then not so gently between his big fingers.
“Does that feel good?” His lips press against your shoulder while his fingers continue to pluck at your nipples.
“Yes.” It really fucking does, he knows it does. Your arms rise to thread through his slicked back waves, gripping while he continues to tease your breasts.
“He’s going to give it to her, you want me to give it to you? You want me to fuck this pretty little cunt?” One hand slips down, he lets out a laugh when your legs fall open. “Oh honey, just as eager as her huh? Answer me.”
“Yes daddy, I want it so bad—“ your voice shakes with anticipation, the words barely coming out as his hand hovers at your mound, those deft fingers slipping through the soft curls there.
“What do you want baby, tell daddy what you want—keep watching the movie. I want you to watch her get fucked while I have my way with you.” You let out a shaky breath, swallow thickly. She’s on her back now, legs spread while he plows into her. You moan at the sight. Clint’s cock is so fucking hard under you.
“Is that how you want daddy to fuck you? Hard like that—?” His fingers slip inside you, two, thick and long. A moan escapes, your head tilts back with the pleasure of it but he tuts.
“Eyes on the movie sweetheart.” With a whine you focus, or try to. His fingers start to thrust in sync with the man on the screen, your brain blanks. The girl moans on the tv, just as you do, both of you being filled. For a moment, that flash of violence fills your mind's eye again, that the solid, gorgeous man underneath you could inflict such pain on someone makes your heart race.
Shamefully, it makes you wetter.
“Oh baby, listen to that.” Heat floods the whole of you, your pussy sounds soaked–every thrust of his fingers rings out louder, messier. A breathy daddy comes out of your mouth, and he laughs, an earthy, low tone that only adds to your considerable arousal.
“You want my cock don’t you baby, just like her huh? You want me to fuck you just like that?” God you do, you want him to hold you down, you want him to bruise you, claim you roughly, make you take his dick until he says you’ve had enough. “I need words, sweetheart, those pretty moans won’t get you what you want.” He pulls his fingers out and you whine, desperate, feral.
“Open.” His word is law, and your mouth falls open while you writhe in his lap. His fingers rub your own arousal onto your tongue, a vulgar blessing, an anointing. Sweat beads on your skin and in your hairline, on your lower back.
“How do you want it?” He pinches your nipple again, already so sensitive from his earlier teasing.
“Hard.” You mumble around his fingers.
“Put your hands on the coffee table.” He taps your leg and for a moment you don’t really understand what he means, your brain is too full of the girl getting fucked on the tv, on how you aren’t getting fucked, too full and not full enough of his dick pressing into your back.
“Don’t make daddy tell you again. Bend over, and put your hands on the coffee table. Now.” He’s such a good man, the best man who ever fucking lived and there’s no way you aren’t going to obey the best man who ever lived.
Smooth, solid wood under your hands holds most of your weight, it’s a little awkward for a moment to stand bent over, until you finally feel the blunt head of his cock slipping through the mess between your legs. Those deft fingers ghosting over your skin.
“Watch her.” It’s the only warning he gives you before he bottoms out in one, deep thrust. That bruising grip you were fantasizing about finally rears its head, that firm feel of his fingers gripping your hips while he gives it to you exactly how you want it.
Your head drops with the force of his thrusts—
“Eyes up baby, don’t make me tell you again.” He pants, voice clipped with authority, exertion and passion.
“Yes daddy, yes, god yes.” Your whole body is on fire, the pleasure is so sharp, laser focused in that spot he’s hitting with every push in, but spreading like a wildfire through your veins, inching you closer and closer to that peak. Your head drops again.
“What did I say?” Your hands come off the table, one hand holds your throat and for a moment your heart races with something close to fear.
“Daddy told you to keep—“ he thrusts harder, shoving the air out of your lungs and making your pussy weep rivers of arousal, “watching, the screen—“ two fingers hook into your mouth, pulling at your cheek. He holds you to him, caught, subdued. Dominated.
You come all over him, hard and sudden.
Your body tenses with the force of it, arching sharply, ass pressed against his groin, breasts jutting out, half standing, half bent over. Half moaning, half sobbing.
“Oh I know, I know baby, so good huh? You gonna be my good girl and take this fucking cock until I come? You gonna take all of daddy’s come in that ruined little cunt?” He sounds frantic, animalistic. His fingers slip out of your mouth, dragging your spit across your chin, across your breast when he holds it. The girl on the screen laughs as she bounces on the man’s dick, flirting and teasing while your brain melts out through your ears, leaks out around Clint’s dick.
“Fuck, here it comes—“ you wince, feeling the way he grinds deeper, the warmth of his come, the humid pants against your neck.
You try to catch your breath for a minute, he does too. Your whole body aches when he pulls out and lets you straighten your spine. There’s a dark thrill that lights you up from the inside at the feel of his load dripping out.
“Give me a second and I’ll grab something to clean you up with.” Tender, soft, relaxed. He tilts your head back to press a soft kiss to your forehead before shutting off the tape, and walking over to his bathroom. There are scars on his back too, you can’t help but notice.
He's wearing a soft t shirt, and an old pair of sweats when he comes back. Gently, he wipes away the mess he made between your legs before slipping another one of his shirts over your head. It smells like his skin, like that tender spot behind his ear that smells like him and soap. Emotions swell within, an intensity, a vulnerability you can’t quite explain. You almost want to cry.
Methodically, he opens your duffel and roots around for a clean pair of panties, slips them over your trembling legs as you silently fall apart.
“Get cozy, I’m going to let Louis out, and then grab you some water.” He places another tender kiss on your forehead before walking away and again, the threat of tears lingers.
By the time he comes back, by the time he presses the glass to your mouth they fall silently. He frowns, but you shake your head.
“I’m sorry It’s not you, I don’t even know why I’m crying, it’s so stupid–” He tsks, puts the glass down and then settles back, pulling you half into his lap in the process.
“It’s not stupid, and you have nothing to be sorry about. Happens sometimes.” He pulls you in, reassuring you with his tone, with his hands and his warmth.
You snuggle closer, bury your face into his neck. He’s so fucking solid, so warm. His big hand does a soothing sweep on your back, it melds the line between boyfriend and daddy, your face shoots up.
“What’s wrong?” His other hand cups your cheek, “Oh god, you must be hungry, let me order a pizza–” he groans, his whole body tensing up to rise but your fingers grip onto him. “What is it baby?”
“Um. I just had a thought, maybe it’s dumb, or the wrong time to ask but, are you my boyfriend?” His eyebrows rise up into his hairline and immediately you want to backtrack. Leave it up to you to have the most amazing, mind-blowing sex of your life and top it off with crying and interrogating him.
“Well–” He starts, but you don’t let him finish.
“Oh my god no, I’m sorry, forget I asked.” You bury your face into his shoulder again, clench your eyes together and let the embarrassment overflow like a broken levee.
“Enough with that, hey–no more saying sorry for asking questions or telling me how you feel. I’m not trying to dodge the question, or avoid the topic. You just caught me off guard is all.” He tilts your head up, presses a kiss to your lips. “I want to be with you, I want you in my life, preferably not secretly but I understand you not wanting to deal with your dad. I am happy to be your boyfriend, or partner, whatever you want to label it.”
Your face heats, the whole of your body floods with warmth at the sound of those words.
“I’ll tell him, I don’t want you to be a secret.” Your nose connects with the warm skin of his neck again, he smells so good you sigh.
“We can do it together.” The sweep of his hand continues to work its magic as your heartbeat slows, comfortable, safe. Is this what it feels like to be loved? Is that too strong a word? Too fast?
“I think I should do it on my own, but thank you for wanting to be there with me.” He says nothing, only nods, presses his lips to your forehead.
-
The rest of the night was just as perfect as you’d hoped it’d be. He ordered pizza. You cuddled on the couch and watched other movies he’d rented, not that you’d actually paid attention to anything. Laughs and cuddles morphed into a soft makeout session, which then morphed again into a heavy makeout session. Soft sex on the couch. Longer, more intense sex in his bed. He laughed about needing to hydrate, teased you for being insatiable, made self-deprecating jokes about his age and keeping up with you. Your birth control was going to have to put in work.
The morning finds you awake before he is. Louis meows softly at the door, no doubt hungry for breakfast. You knew where he kept the food, and so quietly and quickly, you crept out and fed him.
Clint is still asleep when you slip back inside the room. He’s always the most relaxed right after he comes, but even that doesn’t hold a candle to how he looks while asleep. He looks a little younger, the lines in his face are a little less defined, that constant furrow in his brow is gone.
He shifts onto his back with a deep breath, settles, eyes still closed. Completely at ease. You study the freckles littered across his neck and shoulders. Your finger absentmindedly follows each little silvery scar you come across. Theories, or more accurate still–your own imagination fills in a little story for each one. A scratch from Louis, a cut from the sharp chef's knife in his kitchen, a fight. The scar on his nose is the hardest to rationalize, so you don’t even try.
His chest rises and falls with each even breath, a sparse little patch of hair, soft under your fingers when you trace them down from between his pecs. The sheet covers his belly, you move it out of the way to continue your soft exploration. A darker happy trail leads down from his bellybutton, towards his groin, ending in the darkest patch at the base of his cock.
You let out a sigh at the sight of it. It’s half hard, resting against the junction between his torso and his thigh. There’s an intimidation that grips your chest in regards to this part of him. He easily has the biggest dick amongst all of the guys you’ve been with. Thick and slightly curved, a prominent vein that makes your head buzz. In the short time you’ve been together you’ve slept with him a handful of times, he’s gone down on you, seen every inch of you but this is the first time you’ve come face to face with it, so to speak.
Despite being naked, despite having wiped the trickle of his come away every time you’ve used the bathroom, you somehow feel almost shy. His eyes are still closed when you shimmy closer. Your stomach jumps when you get really close. Slowly, tentatively, you run your tongue across the head. The nervous flutter in your belly is still there, but it’s tempered with how his cock twitches, you take a hold of it loosely and continue.
He lets out a soft sigh, half asleep, half dreaming while you let your saliva pool and drip onto the head. It’s an unhurried exploration, a slippery kiss of the shaft, a tentative lick from root to tip until it’s swollen and hard within the soft grip of your palm. The intimidation swells along with his cock in your hand, your heart races at the size of it, your cunt leaks.
He wakes up while you’re licking at his balls.
“What are you doing down there, Princess?” He smiles, his voice deep and morning-raspy.
You smile, responding with another kiss at the tip. It’s slick with your saliva, slipping through your grip with ease. His hand finds your throat, long, thick fingers curling around your neck when you take him deeper. There’s no pressure in his grip, only a gentle encouragement, a reminder of his strength. You moan onto him, take him deep until he hits the back of your throat, until your nose presses against his groin. He smells like himself only deeper, earthier. Clean. Masculine.
“Good Christ, baby–” The fucked out tone of his voice only motivates you to swallow around the tip, pull out all the stops, make him moan just how he makes you do. His thumb presses only slightly into the base of your throat–how can those hands ever hurt anyone? How can the thought of that strength turn you on so much?
“Fuck, that’s it Princess, swallow daddy’s cock.” He breathes, his other hand caresses your cheek. Up and down you bob, stroking his shaft while you suck, twisting your wrist on the down stroke.
“You’re gonna make daddy come, you want that pretty baby? You want daddy to come in that pretty mouth?” You pull away to let more saliva drip out onto your fist, moan a yes daddy, smile at the way he looks at you before dipping down to lick at his balls again.
“That’s my good girl, go on then.” He guides himself back into your mouth, the hand at your neck tightens a fraction, enough to make your cunt clench although deep down you know it really shouldn’t.
You focus, suck the head and stroke, twist your wrist and let him touch your throat with every bob. Steady rhythm, firm, wet grip, an aching jaw and determination pay off, and within a few minutes he’s panting; hips moving, balls tightening.
“Fuck, yes baby, yes baby, oh fuck, I’m coming–” He floods your mouth with a deep groan, hissing when you squeeze his balls softly and swallow every salty drop.
He drops onto his back, pulling you up with him. Your jaw aches, and another sort of shyness creeps in while he takes deep breaths. There’s a need for approval that threads like a network of veins that connects with your nervous system. The longer he stays quiet, the longer he lays there, the more the need grows. A wholly independent hunger that claws at you, separate from the overwhelming desire for him to love you with his body.
“Was I good?” Your head settles onto his shoulder lightly, muscles tightly wound, barely letting yourself fully rest onto him.
“Pretty baby, you were more than good.” He pulls you closer, sighing into the kiss he presses to your mouth. Your neck relaxes, all of you does, his reassurance is the relaxant, the special sauce that lets you loosen up.
“That’s one hell of a way to wake up.” He laughs, hugging you tighter, he’s just as loose as you feel. His heavy arms are comforting, his mouth at your neck feels like a light somewhere deep inside has been turned back on. When had it been shut off? Was it even there at all before him?
“My turn.” His voice carries the smile, fills your heart to bursting with it.
-
Anxiety creeps in, just as his car creeps down your street. It’s a heavy weight that keeps your mouth shut, clenches your jaw tightly at the thought of just how differently the light shines through your windows, as opposed to his.
“You okay?” He presses the back of your hand to his mouth.
“Yes.” You give him a tight smile, he raises his eyebrows.
“You sure?” His big hand squeezes yours hard enough to warm you up from the inside.
“No.” You huff out a breath, sinking further into your seat.
“I don’t want to go home, I don’t want to see my dad, I don’t want to go to work, I just want to hang out with you and Louis all day.” Heat floods your face at the confession. It's unrealistic, obviously. You know he…well, you know he’s out making money.
“I would love that. Can you take a few days off in a couple weeks? I’ll rework some stuff, give you my undivided attention, or at least as much as Louis will let me.” He laughs, and suddenly you feel lighter. The thought of being sequestered up in his apartment, a Princess in her tower, only she’s already been rescued.
“That sounds amazing, I’ll talk to my boss.” You scoot over, burying your face into his neck before pulling his face towards you. He lets you kiss him for a few seconds before facing the road again.
Your house dims some of the light he’s lit inside, but the thought of a tiny vacation with him keeps it on.
He carries your bag in one hand, holds onto your shoulder with the other as you step through the doors of your house.
“Where the hell have you been?” Your dad speaks, his tone cuts through the quiet–your stomach drops to see his expression change, his eyes flit between Clint and you, realization dawns. Clint takes a deep breath.
“Dad–”
“So this is where you’ve been? This is why you’ve been distracted, not taking extra shifts at the store, head in the fucking clouds. You acting out like a teenager? Trying to get my attention by fucking around with my business?”
You scoff at him, this was not how you wanted him to find out.
“Acting out? I’m an adult. I haven’t been taking extra shifts because I don’t want to, it has nothing to do with your business.” You shake your head, part of you always knew it would be difficult for him to accept this.
“Don’t give me that, I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing? Living my life? Dating someone who treats me well?” It’s not fair how he can strip you of your good mood so easily, how quickly he can corrupt your happiness without even trying. The cruel judgement in his eyes shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does. It almost makes you want to laugh, how unsupportive, how selfish he’s always been.
“Just like your fucking mother–” It’s a smack across the face without ever having to lift a finger.
“Hey!” Clint’s voice shocks him for a moment, the warning tone of it, “Cool it. Don’t speak to her that way.” His shoulders are square, part of you preens, revels in his protection.
“Do me a favour and stay the fuck out of it, she’s my daughter and I’ll speak to her however I want. If she wants to go around acting like a fucking slut then I’ll call her a–” He doesn’t finish his sentence. The sting of his words, of his insults don’t feel like anything compared to the shock of seeing Clint’s fist connect with your fathers face.
Time slows down, a slow motion shot of your dad falling back, of Clint rushing him. Wordlessly, calmly, animalistically, Clint’s fist pummels. Blood splatters, bones crunch, watery gurgles shake you from your frozen state. Your heart races, your stomach drops to the floor, time moves at its normal speed and your feet bring you to them.
“Stop! Please!” You pull at his shoulder, yank him away from where he beats your father into the ground. With shaking hands, you shove him towards the door. “Go! You need to leave!”
He seems almost drunk while he stumbles back, confused and disoriented. You cannot help the tears, you cannot help the fear of what might happen and so you push him, get him away from your father before he kills him. He cannot be here, he needs to go, he needs to get away before the police are called, before he’s taken away from you. That image of him in his bed with you this morning flashes, something in his eyes, something you have to shut away for now.
“Go!” You sob at him again, closing the door in his face to deal with the damage.
Mixed Media ( Copics, Polychromos Pencils, Micron Pens, White pen)
Redo of my original G(a)linda Portrait. I just felt like the original just looked really off to me and it didn't really match my Elphaba drawing stylistically, it really didn't look like Glinda/Ariana Grande at all, and it was not at all how I pictured it. Still not sure how I feel about this one as a whole, but I definitely like it SO much better than the first one!
I intend to have limited prints of this one along with my Elphaba portrait as well!
Character inspired after watching ‘Pandora and The Flying Dutchman’ (1951) for the first time, which takes place in Spain in a town called Esperanza. I loved the music and colors they had throughout the film, not to mention that the flamenco sequence at the beginning is FIRE!
W.i.t.c.h. has been a significant influence on my art style and inspiration to have a career in comics and animation. I’m still reading the books and I encourage anyone to give the series a read, it’s more amazing than I thought it was as a little girl. I am always open to constructive criticism.
“The Dark Prince” AU Fanart of Eugene Fitzherbert/Flynn Rider from Tangled the Series. Used stock image for reference by Null-Entity at https://www.deviantart.com/null-entity
This show is amazing and you should check it out if you haven’t seen it yet! I should also note that I was watching Tangled the Series around the same time as Game of Thrones Season 8, which might explain the Game of Thrones-ish influence that I didn’t notice until later :| Rapunzel companion piece to follow. I am also open to constructive criticism as well.
