SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.
note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33
"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."
nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"
(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.
"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.
half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.
"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.
nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.
what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.
"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."
nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.
(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.
the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."
"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."
nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.
he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).
but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.
"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.
the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.
unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."
(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.
nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"
the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.
nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."
the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.
"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?
nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"
you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."
the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"
you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"
nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"
"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.
"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."
you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"
her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"
and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"
the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"
you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."
"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"
the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.
"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"
and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"
nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.
(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).
summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer
warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl
a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.
“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.
“uh, yeah actually.”
“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”
“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.
“you’re no fun man.”
the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.
three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,
“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,
“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”
spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.
“rubatosis.”
“bless you?”
“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,
“the love of used bookstores?”
“i saw old books in your car.”
“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.
“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,
“you didn’t even look at the register.”
“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.
there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.
“bye.”
the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.
you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.
you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.
“i’m not going to ask.”
“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.
you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”
he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”
you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”
he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”
you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”
“bye, spencer.”
you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?
you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.
you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.
“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”
you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”
he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.
he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.
“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“
“how did you get that perfectly-“
“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”
you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.
“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.
“i can’t tell you.”
you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”
he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”
you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”
he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”
you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”
“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.
“yeah, no i don’t. why?”
spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”
you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.
pt. 3
taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara
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Dea Romana
(Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader)
(Author's note:
Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for me! I'm done with writing my exams now, so I will be able to write more again until Juli. Since I like history a lot, the beginning got a bit longer than originally planned, but I hope you will be able to enjoy it nonetheless. I tried to make everything as historically accurate as possible, but please don't expect everything to be true.
Stay healthy! I will do my best to upload the next piece as soon as possible!)
Every muscle feels like it's burning. Your legs and arms feel heavy. Your feet barely lift off the uneven ground with every step you take.
Dried blood stains your face. Your armour doesn't look much better. The shield you are holding, has a big dent in it. The javelin in your right hand feels like it's made out of steel. The chainmail on your chest weighs heavier than usual.
"Marius!"
Your second in command shouts at you from the back.
"The women need a break!"
You sigh in annoyance. It's bad enough that you almost got your whole century killed. Now you have to delay your reunion with the rest of the legion because of those Gaul captives.
"We will take a short break."
You announce to your eighty legionaries and the twenty rebels you captured.
Spotting a small stream near by, you walk closer, while most of the soldiers sit on the ground, some are standing guard.
Taking off your helmet, you start to wash your face. The dried blood sticks to your skin. After some effort, you are just a little bit cleaner.
Another sigh leaves your lips as you kneel in place. In front of the small stream, your century in the back, looking into the deep forest.
You have lived a hard life. You were not born a Roman. Not born a free man. But you took your life into your own hands, instead of hoping for the mercy of the gods. Because gods don't have mercy. Only you can change your own destiny.
"Let's keep marching. We are almost there."
You go back to the front of the century, your men following your orders. Most of the Gaul rebels you captured are women and children. Their husbands and fathers killed by your swords and javelins.
Orders are orders. To kill or to be killed. These are the only two principles you live by. At least most of the time.
"Have you heard yet?"
Quintus asks from behind you, catching your attention. You silently wave for him to walk next to you. It's not necessarily the gossip you're interested in, but you did learn that it's important to know what is going on inside your century and the legion itself.
"Aelius fucked up some of his soldiers."
You raise your eyebrow while you keep walking. Nothing new there. Aelius is a spoiled son of a whore. He only became centurion in the tenth, because of his family's status. And he is usually unnecessarily brutal with his century.
"Reason?"
"They ate some of the extra rations we all got a week ago. Aelius said that they are meant for centurions only. Not for legionaries."
You have to stop yourself from spitting onto the muddy path you are walking on.
Aelius paints the perfect picture of the Roman nobility. Rich assholes. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Did he kill someone again?"
Quintus shakes his head.
"But I heard that the premus pilus had a talk with him."
You let out a dry chuckle.
"All the centurions of the first cohort are the same. Do you really think he got in trouble?"
"No. But I thought you would be interested. It's not like you have very good connections with-"
"Shut it, fool."
It's not really a secret in the tenth legion that you and Aelius are bitter rivals. The two of you are the completely opposite of one another. A rich brat, who is the centurion of the third century in the first cohort. And you. The former slave, who climbed the ranks to be the centurion of the first century in the second cohort.
There aren't many ranks that separate the two of you. But making the jump into the first cohort as a former slave is nearly impossible.
Your century walks in almost complete silence for the next couple of hours. Despite being one of the most feared soldiers in the legion, you can't help but be cautious. In case there are more rebels lurking in the shadows of the large trees.
"Marius!"
The scout you send out to check the path ahead is jogging in your direction.
"We take another short break."
A light murmur of gratitude echoes through the ranks.
You wait for the young man, barely older than a boy, to reach the spot where you are standing.
"Someone seems to be traveling towards the camp. Our paths are going to cross, once we reach the small clearing ahead."
"Do you know who it is?"
"It looked like a person from the nobility. There was a carriage. And a couple of men with spears. Probably guards."
"We can't be too cautious. Titus!"
You shout for your second in command to walk to the front.
"Take your contubernia and make fast pace. I want to make sure that everything is going according to regulations."
"Yes, Marius."
The rest of the century starts marching at normal pace again, while the eight men rush ahead. The scout leading them towards the small crossroads.
"You know what's going on?"
You shake your head at Quintus' question.
"Might be a politician from Rome. Or a nobleman's wife."
"You know that that's against the law."
Of course everyone knows. It's illegal for a legionary to be married. And yet, some centurions always think that they are above the rest of the legion, when it comes to this kind of rules.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
An angry shout echoes around the forest, just as you and your men reach the small clearing.
The scout was right. A carriage, pulled by two grays, accompanied by a handful of men, armed with spears, and some servants.
An older woman is standing in front of the carriage's door, screaming at the poor Titus. Glancing over his shoulder, your optio rolls his eyes.
"Woman. Don't scream at a Roman legionary."
You make your presence known as you keep walking towards the middle of the clearing.
The servant, probably around forty to fifty years of age, looks at you with anger in her eyes.
"Do you even know, whom you are holding up?!"
"No."
You state bluntly, finally standing in front of her. Behind you, you can hear your men take their positions. Not to threaten the travelers, but to guard the area.
"Well, she is one of the most prestigious women in all of Rome."
"And what is a woman like her doing so far away from the city?"
"Visiting her husband."
You click your tongue. As far as you know, none of the centurions in the first cohort have wives. Which means, she must be the woman of a centurion, who ranks lower than you.
A smirk, which you can't suppress, plays around your lips. How are you able to enjoy a higher position than a noble in this republic?
You walk off without another word, leaving Titus in charge. There is no need to bother with this stuff. Some of the Gaul rebels fell a little behind earlier. You have to check on them. In case they are sick or badly injured.
"Her name?"
You hear Titus ask, before the woman let's out an exaggerated gasp.
"Sana Lucii."
You groan in annoyance. By Jupiter. Is this really his wife? Lucius Aelius? Just when you thought, you couldn't hate that man even more.
You despise men, who don't follow the law and rules of the republic and the legion. Of course, sometimes you can define them a little different for your own gains, but this is just breaking them.
Trying to stay calm, your fingers tap the pommel of your gladius. You don't hear a response from Titus. He must know which Lucius the old woman ment.
"Marius?"
He finally makes you turn around.
You walk back up towards the carriage, just as the door opens.
"By Bellona! What is taking so long!"
You have to say, you are amused by the woman's expression. You didn't expect her to call out for the goddess of war.
"Just doing our duty, lady."
Titus answers politely, although you know how hard it is for him to not lash out. He hates Aelius just as much as the next soldier. Especially, since he is your optio.
You are stunned, once the woman actually shows herself. Her beautiful face is slightly twisted with annoyance. Although, you would be sure that she could look like Venus herself, when she smiles.
She is wearing a turquoise stola, which also covers her brown hair. The thin material enables you to have a look at her white tunic underneath. Her skin looks flawless and pure. A golden necklace adorns her neck and collarbone. It's probably worth more than a whole year of your salary.
An image of a goddess.
"I hope we can speed up this process. I'm supposed to be by my husband's side."
Lucky bastard.
"Please. Speak respectfully with my legionaries."
Her gaze meets yours. You can feel your heart skipping a beat. Not one woman has looked as pretty as she does. Not one.
"Who are you to lecture me on speaking?"
"Salve."
Your fist meats the blood stained chainmail on your chest.
Maybe, if you behave respectfully, so does she. The army is for her protection after all.
"My name is Marius. And-"
"What's your first name, centurion?"
A cute smile suddenly plays around her lips. Maybe this will get her out of here faster.
"Gaius."
"I see, Gaius. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stop me from traveling further? My husband must be waiting for me."
If she didn't know better, Sana could swear that she caught a glint of hate in your eyes.
"This is protocol. We have to check on everyone, who approaches the camp."
"I'm a noble woman. Can't you make an exception for me?'
You don't fall for her sweet smile. You are on duty. Not even Venus herself could distract you. Well, maybe a little bit.
"Your choice. Here, or at the gate in front of even more legionaries. Like everyone else."
That last part makes her glare at you. You won this round.
Not waiting for a response, you gesture for your men to search the woman's belongings. Your Imperial legate has more than enough enemies in Rome to be cautious of. And you don't want him to end up dead inside his own camp. Even if she is allegedly Aelius' wife.
Quintus nods in your direction after going through her belongings, signaling that everything is alright.
"We will accompany you on your way to the camp. We are on our way back, anyway."
You turn around without looking at Sana again. A signal for your men to get into formation.
It feels like she stares at your back for a second longer, before you hear the door close behind you. You don't like the Roman nobility. At all. There is only one man you are willing to follow.
After two more hours of marching, your century and the noblewoman's entourage finally reach the camp's gate.
"The village, where the senior officers are staying, is right behind the camp. You can't miss it."
The older woman, who screamed at Titus earlier, still looks at you as if she is holding a grudge.
"I hope you enjoy your stay in these wonderful lands, lady."
You raise your voice a little, making sure that Sana can hear you. It drips with sarcasm and you can hear Quintus chuckle behind you.
"Vale."
With a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk past the old servant. Her shock at your rudeness visible on her face.
Already making your way past the guards, you can't hear Sana's scoff.
Who are you to talk to her like that? If she is gonna tell her husband about this, you are going to be in trouble for sure.
Sana will never be able to get used to this. She was able to decide that, immediately after she stepped out of her carriage. It took her only a couple of steps to enter the small house her husband is living in right now. But that was enough for her already.
Nothing here looks like Rome. Even the legionaries look out of place. And their shouts and the sounds of shields and stuff isn't what she hears when she is home. Sana is already missing the comfortable house with the atrium. She likes to bathe in the sun throughout the day, while sipping on a really good wine.
"You're late."
Lucius doesn't even look up from his small table as he hears his wife coming in.
"That's how you great me after a year?"
"You know how I value punctuality."
"Out of my hands. Some centurion insisted on searching my luggage. He was really rude."
Now Lucius is looking at her. Sana knows that he can't stand someone disrespecting him. And when she gets disrespected, it goes deeper. He is affected as well.
"Who?"
She can see his eyes becoming a little darker. He bites his lip, maybe trying to prevent himself from shouting.
"His name is Garius Marius. I think?"
"That son of a whore. How does a slave dare to stop you?"
Now, Sana feels shame run down her spine. If she knew that he was born a slave, she would've hit him for talking to her like that. No matter his rank, he is and will always be beneath her. Once a slave, always a slave.
"I swear to Jupiter. One day in battle, I will..."
Lucius takes a deep breath, before focusing back on his wife.
"We are eating dinner with the Imperial legate, the leader of these legions tomorrow, and the senior generals. I expect you to impress them."
"I'd be happy to, love."
Sana almost spits out that last word, but Lucius doesn't seem to notice. He sits back down, opening an envelope. She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed. He won't let this incident pass without consequences.
Sana eventually leaves the house to explore the small town and it's market. Despite being married to Lucius, she can't stay around him for too long. She is only his wife, because of his money and connections. As soon as she can find someone better...
Sana feels a little dizzy as she steps out of the big house. Lucius told her to be on her best behavior. But that idiot was behaving the worst throughout the dinner.
She hated how calm and reserved the other centurion was, the man who stopped her. He was the lowest ranking soldier and yet, everyone listened to his advice and thoughts about future and past battles. And how is he on a first name basis with the imperial legate? And why is Lucius too incapable to enjoy the same treatment? How can he do worse than a slave?
Sana holds onto the wall, standing right next to the entrance. Suddenly, two men walk out the door. They don't see her because it's dark. She tries to find out who they are. The first one is a little taller, while the second has broader shoulders and looks more muscular.
"We can't do this forever, Gaius. We need a plan to wipe him out. I expect you to help me with that."
"Of course, Gaius."
Sana almost groans in annoyance. Of course it's that Gaius Marius. And the other one is the Imperial legate. Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Rome is an empire. We will defeat Vercingetorix sooner rather than later. His supporters will crumble soon."
"You did a good job today, centurion. You've proven once again, why you rightfully carry the name I gave you. Gaius Marius Antonius."
Sana assumes they are talking about some barbarian leader. But Caesar gave him that cognomen? She can't help but wonder what he must've done to be called "priceless".
"You know the political situation in Rome. The more time I waste conquering Gaul, the more powerful my enemies become."
"I swear to Mars. I will cut down anyone who tries to oppose you, Gaius."
She sees Caesar put a hand on the centurion's shoulder.
"It's only a matter of time, until you will be one of the Tribuni angusticlavii, leading the tenth legion into battle. And I will make sure, you will eventually become a rich senator."
Sana has heard enough. It's so disgusting to her. A slave becoming a senator. She is working so hard to become the most powerful woman in Rome. And with that in the whole empire. How can that lowlife become something better than she herself? Sana either needs to push Lucius further up the ranks, or she needs to find someone, who can match Marius' new found status.
Sana groans in relief, when she can finally leave the small village. It's not like someone forbid her to leave, but there just wasn't something to do in and outside the village. What was she gonna do in a forest? A very dangerous one at that?
But now, she heard of a big market place around two hours away. Sana is still looking to buy some oils and pottery. She could do that in Rome of course, but she is hoping to find them cheaper in their land of origin.
Looking out of her carriage, Sana leaves behind the village and the big camp right next to it. The constant noise made her head spin. Not that Rome isn't loud, but this is something else.
After about an hour, Sana hears a troop of men marching in front of her. She became familiar with that sound after a few days. She doesn't look outside, despite being curious. Why would a century be here? The battles would take place in the opposite direction. Right?
Sana hears how the carriage passes the back of the century. The heavy steps of the legionaries kick up some dust. Her old servant looks outside, curious herself.
"It's him again."
The older woman grimaces, before letting the curtain drop back into place.
"Who?"
"The man who stopped us a couple of days ago."
Sana's attention is now on the men outside. She remembers the conversation you had with Caesar.
"Really?"
She pretends to be cold, not wanting to get caught. After having seen you around a couple of times, the young noble woman is unsure on how to feel about you.
Yes, you are a former slave. A peasant. But you are also a great centurion. A trusted man to Julius Caesar.
Despite being not the highest ranking officer, Sana did notice how the other men look at you. She catches an occasional whisper of your brave actions in battle. She sees the men greet you with almost too much respect. Even the other centurions seem to want to be on your good side.
Maybe that's what Sana has to do too. In order to further climb up the ladder. It is risky. And it's still a long time in the future. But if Caesar can really make his ambitions reality, you will be one of the first people who benefit from it. And if Sana plays her cards well, she can benefit too.
For a moment, she wonders what a man like you would need. Something she could have to bargain with. Money? You probably earn quite a lot already. Especially compared to your earlier environment. Land? You will get that too, if you stay long enough in the army. A wife? You are a soldier. You are not allowed to be married.
As Sana is still pondering on what to do to convince you to help her gain more power, she gets closer towards the front of the century.
And it's not like she doesn't have influence. She could maybe even get you a promotion into the first cohort. Of course without her husband finding out.
Sana draws back the curtain a little with only one finger. Just a few meters ahead, she can see you walking.
Your helmet is decorated by a big crest of red horse hair. The back of the helmet and the rest of your armor shimmer in the light of the sun. She remembers your first encounter. Your armor was full with blood, indicating that you were more than able to fight a battle.
You turn around as you hear horses behind you. It wouldn't have been a surprise. One of the auxilia officers could be taking his men out to train.
Surprised at the sight of the carriage, you catch a glimpse of the passenger. Her eyes meet yours, a big golden ring decorates the finger that holds back the curtain. You could swear you see a small hint of a smile play around her lips.
"Salve."
You great her by hitting your armored chest with your fist. Not because you like her, but out of politeness.
"Salve, centurion."
Her passive aggressive mentioning of your rank indicates that she is still not over that incident a couple of days ago.
"Are you visiting the market?"
"I am. I suppose you are not here to buy pottery?"
A mocking smile replaces the earlier one.
"It may sound unbelievable, but I'm not."
A cute chuckle escapes her mouth.
"Well, I hope you enjoy this beautiful day."
Is she still mocking you, because you are on duty? You are not sure, but you can see her lazily wave goodbye as the carriage drives past you.
"Don't get too close to her. She is only gonna be trouble."
You look at Quintus.
"I'm merely being polite. I don't need trouble with angry nobles. At least not now."
"By Jupiter. One might think you've become a responsible, grown man now."
"Fuck off."
You raise your hand, but Quintus ducks away, avoiding a potential slap.
Only listening with one ear to the conversation next to you, you scan the market for the young noble woman. Despite her attitude and the fact that she is married, you can't help but glance at her occasionally. Plus, the market isn't as safe as it might seem. Cunning merchants, thiefs and rebels might roam the place, ready to strike at any moment. And being a beautiful Roman woman makes her one of the most desirable targets right now.
"Listen, Roman! I barely sell anything! How do you expect me to pay your unreasonable taxes?!"
"Shut it."
You turn back to the stall holder. Titus' and his conversation got heated.
"We are not hear to argue. We are here to collect taxes."
The man grits his teeth.
"I'm telling you! I don't have anything to give away!"
The other people around you look at the scene, before walking past. Only you and a couple of legionaries are here. The rest of your century is patrolling another village nearby and the rest of the market, making sure you are not getting ambushed.
"Don't scream at me, old man. Pay up."
"I don't have a fucking coin!"
You know he is lying. You saw someone buy his fabric from a far as you entered the marketplace. And, judging by the money bag he held earlier, it wasn't cheap at all.
"We can do this the easy way, or the heard way."
You take a step forward, towering above him.
"But the hard way won't end well for you."
"I already told you, I-"
You let your head fall back in annoyance. Collecting taxes is a necessity. Not something to be proud of. It's not as honorable as fighting in battle.
"Do you really want to go this far?"
You look down at him again, your hand now resting on the pommel of your gladius.
He caught the movement of your hand, worry creeping onto his features.
"What is it gonna be? Your life? Or coin?"
The old man is not stupid. And a couple of moments later, you walk away from his stall. The tinkle behind you indicates, that Titus is adding the silver denarii into the bag with the rest of the already collected money.
"Are you trying to rob me, old man? You are a con artist!"
Women screaming at a merchant are as common as clouds under the sky, so you don't pay much attention to it as you hear someone scream.
"How can you demand so much for this lousy work?"
You keep walking, although you kinda feel, like you heard this voice before. It sounds oddly familiar.
"By Bellona! I'm going to have you beaten for your rudeness!"
And there it is. With an annoyed groan, you immediately recognize, who is disturbing the rather peaceful market.
If she was a common local woman, you would've kept walking. The Galli could solve their own disputes.
But Sana is, as unfortunate as it is, not a local. She is a Roman woman. A member of the elite even.
You take a deep breath, before walking towards her screams. You can already guess whom she is screaming at.
"Keep going."
You tell Titus over your shoulder, as you approach her from behind. Her servant must have stayed with the carriage, because Sana is standing in front of the stall of the potter all alone.
Before the young woman can scream another word, you grab her arm.
"What-"
You spin her around and walk away, pulling her with you.
"What do you think you are doing?!"
"Silence."
You didn't say it in a loud voice, but your tone makes her go silent.
After a couple of meters, you stop, turning around to look at her.
"You're welcome."
"Excuse you?"
Her hands now rest on her hips. You can't help but catch how slender her waist seems to be.
"I just saved you from embarrassing yourself even further. You owe me."
You turn away, ready to reunite with Titus and your men.
"What the-"
It's now Sana's turn to grab your arm, stopping you from leaving.
"I don't owe you shit."
"Really?"
You turn to look at her again.
"Your temper is as bad as your observation skills. Minerva would strike you down for your utter incompetence."
You said the words, before you thought about them. You are aggravated. Because of the merchant earlier, because of her causing a scene, because of Lucius (as always) and because of her being his wife. Alright, maybe that last one was a little jealousy.
"How dare you? You are some rude-"
You stop her from saying another word by grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.
"Look. Look and tell me what you see."
"What are you talking about?"
You see her frowning. An act that makes her beautiful face a little less flawless.
"Tell me what's going on."
You realize you are using the same tone as with the men during training. Harsh, straight forward, a little condescending. But not rude. Just factual.
"The merchant is still selling his stupidly expensive pottery."
You don't answer, waiting for more.
Sana, visibly annoyed, struggles against your grip for a moment, before giving in. You are a seasoned legionnaire. There is no way she is gonna get out of your hold on her.
"There are a couple of women and men who browse his items."
"Keep going."
"Someone is buying a bowl and an amphora."
"What is the woman on the right doing?"
"She is paying for her stuff. What-"
"Can you see how much she is paying?"
"Way too much for a stupid-"
"Do you see any of the locals complaining?"
Sana hesitantly shakes her head.
"Do you know the reason?"
"Because they are stupid. In Rome it's cheap-"
"We aren't in Rome, woman. This is Gaul."
You stand behind her, both of you silent for a couple of moments. You give her time to think about the possible reason. Although she is probably just complaining about you to the gods in silence.
"They all pay the price he demands, because he and his work are respected here."
"But they look-"
"Yeah. Some of his pieces aren't pretty."
You admit that.
"But he is an old man. His hands aren't as good as they used to be. He is obviously regarded with a decent amount of respect."
You gesture for Sana to look around the market.
"Most of the people here bargain over every single item. Food, cloth, tools and even pottery."
You turn her back towards the old man's stall.
"But not there. They respect him too much to try to get a better price. His work might not be the very best anymore, but his skill is known by everyone here."
Sana groans in annoyance and anger as she sees you coming out of the biggest tent of the camp. A week has gone by, since you treated her like a child at the market. Her blood still boils, whenever she sees you from a far.
She decided against telling her husband, not wanting to cause unnecessary friction. And if you have the favor of Caesar, it might be a bad idea to egg on her husband.
And Sana is still debating on your ability to help her seize more power. She is ready to do anything to get to the top. Even if it means working together with someone as low born as you.
Sana stops in her tracks as she sees her husband walk towards you.
"Aelius."
You don't greet him like any other lower ranking centurion would. The young woman can feel the tension between the two men, despite standing barely in earshot.
"Marius."
His face shows a disapproving twitch.
"It seems like we are catching up to Vercingetorix. I hope you don't make any mistakes in battle. I would hate to lose a lower ranking officer."
You click your tongue, taking a step forward.
With the two of you standing right in front of each other, Sana realizes that you are bigger than her husband. Not just in statue, but also in the way you carry yourself. With slightly less arrogance and more discipline.
"Don't worry about me, Aelius. As you know, I always make sure my men are taken care off."
Sana feels a shiver run down her spine. She heard more than enough stories about the battles of the tenth legion since she joined her husband. The amount of times that you were mentioned in one of them was noticeably high.
The young woman heard of a battle two summers ago. You weren't a centurion at the time. Merely a soldier of the second cohort. But in battle, your centurion chose to let his men die, while he stayed behind, watching his century getting slaughtered. After half of the eighty men were dead, you walked straight towards the cowardly centurion. A nobleman, which the storyteller didn't fail to mention with a hint of disgust. Your gladius seperated his head from his shoulders in one swift motion and you took command of the second century until the end of the battle. Caesar honored your bravery and agreed with your actions. Instead of getting executed, you got promoted.
"Are you implying I'm not leading my men well?"
Sana hears you chuckle.
"News travel fast among the younger men, Aelius."
"Maybe you should discipline your soldiers like I do. Your century is a disgrace to the tenth legion."
"Nugas garris. You are pathetic."
You walk off, leaving him behind.
Sana almost expects her husband to draw his gladius. How can you call him a disgrace? And idiot? He is higher ranking than you and he is a member of the elite.
But Aelius just watches you leave, before entering the tent you just came out of.
That short interaction reminds Sana of the power you actually hold. You might not be the highest officer, but almost the whole legion treats you as such. If it wasn't for your low birth, you might have been able to be the centurion of the first century of the first cohort.
Sana's decision is slowly forming in her mind. A plan to gain more power than she has right now. Siding with you might be risky. But the rewards could be great.
Sana glances at you from across the room as you stare at Caesar, who is currently talking. She is still not quite sure what she can offer you to make you join her side. But when the leader of the legion mentions the nobility in his speech, she sees your expression change for just a second. It is obvious that you hate all the wealthy and arrogant men and women. Maybe Sana can offer you something to get back at them. Or at least get back at Aelius.
"And that's why the tenth legion outshines any other. Your bravery and honor are praised throughout the whole empire. Rome is grateful for what you have done. And the gods smile down at the men, who give their lifes to the republic."
Caesar ends his speech. And with that, the long meal is finally over. It is night time already. Only the moon and the stars still shine.
You walk out of the large tent, ready to sleep. It has been a long day and there is no doubt that you will be fighting soon. Caesar's promise to promote you to such a high position still rings in your ears. You can't believe you've come this far.
"Gaius."
Her sweet voice makes you stop in front of your tent. She doesn't sound as angry as she usually does.
"Yes?"
You turn around, standing face to face with Sana.
"I'm here to ask you for something."
You look at her, waiting for an explanation.
"I heard that you are the bravest and most powerful man in this legion. At least unofficially."
You raise an eyebrow.
"Where is all of this honey suddenly coming from?"
Sana gives you a melodic chuckle. Only now do you realize how close she is standing. Her oils make you breath in the flowery air that surrounds her.
"I want to strike a deal with you."
"What would you want from such a low ranking officer like me?"
Your sarcasm makes it hard for Sana to not lash out. Just because she needs you, doesn't mean that she likes you.
"As far as I've heard, you won't be a low ranking officer for long."
"Is that so?"
You cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Well, it's actually quite simple. You have something I want. And I have something you want."
"I highly doubt that."
You watch Sana turn her head left and right, making sure that no one is around.
"There is a always something a man wants from a woman."
You are surprised at what she is suggesting.
"Judging by the look on your face, I can comfortably say that I'm right."
You shake your head, which seems harder than usual.
"Have you never thought about having your way with me? A noble woman?"
She takes another step closer. Now, Sana's sandals are touching yours.
"A married one at that? I bet you would love to destroy my husband. This could be your first step to success."
You narrow your eyes, still unsure of what to do. You've never been in this kind of situation. Is she making fun of you? Did Aelius put her up to this, setting a trap for you? Or is she genuine?
"What would you get in return?"
"Your power. Your influence. I can't live, knowing that another person might have more power than I do. I need to be at the top of the republic."
"And you think, I can get you there?"
Sana nods.
"With my support? Definitely."
She looks at you, waiting for a response.
You are still torn. She has a nice body, yes. But you're not fond of her attitude. She is a noble woman. And she is married. Getting caught would have serious consequences. For the both of you.
But the chance to use her? A noble woman? Fucking her, while her husband is only sleeping a couple of tents away? More than just tempting.
You look around the camp yourself. No one in sight.
"Get in."
A victorious smile forms on her lips. As she walks past you, she lets her finger glide over your armoured chest.
You follow her immediately after.
"Now that we have come to an agreement, I-"
You push Sana forward, bending her over the wooden table.
"What-"
You don't give her time to speak. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this quickly.
Hiking up her red stola, you reach underneath her tunic. The smoothness of her legs makes you hard as you reach between them.
"It seems like you are enjoying this more than I expected."
Your fingers graze her lower lips. She is not just a little wet.
"Hey, I didn't give you permission to-"
You shut Sana up by covering her mouth with your other hand.
"I don't need you permission. I'm going to ruin you anyway."
Her gasp is muffled by your hand as you push your first finger inside.
You haven't slept with a lot of women, the army being mainly responsible for that. Nonetheless, you do know how to pleasure a woman.
Sana's moan escapes between your fingers as your digits slide along her wet walls. Her pussy is already gripping them tightly.
If it weren't for your hand, her head would've sunk onto the table already. But you are holding her in place, which ultimately makes her arch her back.
She tries to say something, but your grip on her mouth makes it impossible for her to speak properly.
You are surprised at how wet Sana is.
"Was your desire for power just an excuse? Do you just want me to fuck you?"
She tries to shake her head. You don't let her.
"Do you get off, knowing that a lower born man is fucking you?"
Sana is unable to respond, when you let go off her face. Her whole upper body is now lying on top of the table. You drop your belt and hike her clothes up a little further.
"Don't get confused. I still don't like you."
Sana's growl doesn't sound very convincing with your fingers inside of her.
"Might be true. But you aren't married to Aelius because of his personality anyways."
Pulling your fingers out of her core makes Sana moan loudly. She blushes in shame. Doubt starting to rise inside of her. Is she really only doing this to team up with you?
"You only seem to care for power."
"So? Only a coward wouldn't want power."
You shut her up by letting your tip graze against her lips. Sana hisses through her teeth, unwilling to moan again.
"I'm just curious about how far you would be willing to go. How dedicated you are to this cause."
"Don't worry. I'm ready to do anything."
"Anything?"
You raise an eyebrow, which Sana can't see.
"Anything."
"That's reassuring."
Your nonchalant tone makes Sana shiver.
Finally, you push inside of her.
"Fuck, woman."
You can't help but marvel at how tight she actually is.
"Fuck me already."
It's a mixture of plea and demand.
With one hand you grab her hair, pushing her cheek against the wooden surface. Your other hand holds her waist.
Another moan escapes Sana's lips as you thrust forward. Before she can react, you pull back and push inside of her again.
After just a couple of seconds, you start to fuck her hard. The table rocks back and forth with every thrust. Her moans escape her lips, whenever you bottom out inside of her.
"Harder!"
Sana holds onto the edge of the table, her knuckles slowly starting to turn white.
Because you keep pushing her upwards with your thrusts, the young woman's feet eventually dangle in the air.
You are now able to fuck her even deeper. Her moans become louder when she feels your cock invading her pussy even further.
At this point, Sana is merely a hole for you to fuck. She doesn't move. Only your thrusts rock her body back and forth. The thin material of her clothes makes Sana's nipples rub against the wooden surface. They've become hard due to her arousal and are now adding to the pleasure she is already feeling.
"So good!"
She moans yet again. You suddenly realize, that this isn't really a save place to be this loud.
"Shut up."
You growl into her ear, trying to quiet her.
But Sana can't help it. She has already lost control over her body. Your cock is parting her walls again and again, making her clench around it tightly.
She is even unable to produce a disappointed whine, when you stop fucking her. You leaver her snug pussy, before getting her off your table.
Turning her around, you push Sana against the wooden post, which is holding up the roof of your tent. Reaching for your belt, you hold her arms up, before tying them together.
Sana is now unable to leave. You pick up her light frame, making her impale herself on your cock.
"By Bellona! Fuck!"
"I told you to stay quiet."
Your faces are barely an inch apart.
Because you push her body against the post, you are able to lift her up with only your left hand. Your right one moves upwards to wrap its fingers around her throat.
"One more word..."
You let the threat of unknown punishment linger in the air for a moment.
But you can't hold yourself back for long. Sana's pussy drips her juices onto your cock, coaxing you into resuming your pounding.
A whimper escapes her mouth, when you start to fuck her again. You can tell she is at least trying to stay quiet this time. While you make her bounce on your cock, you thrust upwards. It makes her eyes roll back, whenever she feels your cock pushing against her guts.
"Venus!"
A louder sigh escapes her mouth yet again. You close your fingers around her throat a little further.
"Behave."
The conflict in Sana's eyes amuses you.
She should be the one in charge. She is the noble one of the two of you after all. But here she is, bound to your post, your hand around her throat as you fuck her as hard as you can.
Sana tries to fight the belt, wanting to tell you that you have to choke her harder. She can't keep quiet when you fuck her like this.
Another moan escapes her lips and you tighten your grip yet again.
"I warned you."
You hiss into her face.
Sana's wide eyes look beautiful. The way she stares at you, begging you to fuck her harder, while she tries her best not to make any noise.
But she fails miserably. A loud sigh echoes through the tent.
Without a word, you reach upwards. The sound of metal on metal cuts through the night as you pull your pugio out of its sheath. You let Sana get a good look at it. Then, you slowly part her lips with its blade.
"If you don't want to hurt your pretty face..."
You don't continue your sentence once more. But Sana is well aware of the risks.
With your dagger in her mouth, Sana has to pull back her lips, while simultaneously biting onto the blade, to make sure it doesn't fall or hurt her.
You see her closing her eyes as you keep fucking her. She is now really quiet, focused on keeping your pugio in place.
"Finally. Your voice so annoying."
Sana blushes in shame, able to see your honesty in your eyes.
"At least you have a nice body. I could fuck you every day."
The young woman almost lets out another moan. She really has to hold herself back. This was the first time someone reduced her to nothing but a wet hole to fuck. She didn't expect it to feel this good.
You suddenly hear footsteps outside. You stop moving, almost making Sana whine in disappointment, but then she hears it too. The two of you hold your breath. Neither of you wanting to get caught.
As the footsteps disappear into the night, you resume your fucking.
You make Sana bounce up and down on your cock. She glides along its full length. Whenever you impale her on it, Sana's eyes shoot wide open. She would scream if it wasn't for the dagger between her teeth.
"I'm gonna cum."
You hiss into her face, unable to hold back longer. Her tight pussy has been working on draining your cock this whole time. It feels perfect, almost too good to pull out. But cuming inside is obviously not an option.
You put Sana back onto her own two feet, taking the knife out of her mouth. Undoing your belt, you free her arms. Sana drops to her knees, opening her mouth. You catch a couple drops of blood on the corners of her mouth, before she wraps her lips around your cock.
Your pugio falls out of your hand and you take a fistful of her beautiful hair. Her eyes look up at you, telling you to finish inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over every inch of your cock it can find, while her lips are tightly sealed around it.
"Sana."
You manage to groan her name, before you unload inside her mouth. You feel dizzy, having to close your eyes for a moment.
When you open them again, you see Sana gulping down your cum.
"How often do we need to do this, so that we have a deal?"
"I think you know the answer."
It's so dark that Sana's face is barely lit by the torch outside. You could swear a small smile plays around her lips though.
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