Alright, here it is! Roman God AU for Iwaizumi! I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been super tired all day and I wanted to get this right. I hope my terminology isn’t too “ye olde England”. I couldn’t find anywhere what the proper terms were for some things so I hope it’s still enjoyed! – Admin Jade
*Warning for violence in the beginning because gladiatorial fights*
The roar of the crowd would be deafening if Iwaizumi paid it any mind but his focus is one hundred percent on his opponents; they don’t stand a chance. To his left are two of them, to his right one but judging by his blood loss thus far, he maybe has one swing left in him and it won’t be a good one. Around him lie the strewn bodies of fallen warriors, their weapons caked with mud born of blood. Shifting his gaze, Iwaizumi sees his advantage. In seemingly effortless movement, he rushes the temporary alliance, bellowing out a cry that momentarily freezes them, their shields rising just as he knew they would for his feet to land upon providing a launching pad to jump over them.
Before they realize what’s happened, he’s landed behind them, sword slicing cleaning through both their backs in one slash.
Blood erupts as if from a fountain, pulling gasps of amazement and cries of excitement from the spectators. The men fall to their knees, gasping for breath despite the damage to their lungs. Mercifully, Iwaizumi pulls two daggers from nearby bodies and plunges them into their backs straight through their hearts ending the torture of drowning in their own blood.
Ahead of him, he can see the last who remains an obstacle to his absolute victory. It’s true, he hasn’t killed all who lay fallen, but the point stands that he could have. His eyes are hard, determination resolute, he will not lose. As he steps forward, the man falls to his knees, perhaps to beg for mercy, perhaps because of fatigue. Iwaizumi will never know for he gives him no opportunity to disgrace himself as he wrenches from his latest kills one of the daggers and projects it perfectly into the man’s chest.
A look of awe comes over his face, followed by one of peace, almost a smile as he dies, the message clear in the language of the warrior, “Thank you.”
It’s pandemonium in the coliseum, both cheers and jeers being tossed upon his shoulders but Iwaizumi ignores it all. His eyes meet those of emperor Oikawa, the brown-haired male sitting idly with crossed legs, head leaned upon his fist, a small smile upon his lips.
Once again, his champion, has proven victorious.
It’s late, the tavern practically empty save for those staying in the rooms upstairs who’ve decided to have one last drink. The bathhouse attendant turned barmaid for the evening is exhausted, wiping sweat from her brow. Today had been a madhouse, people coming in from all around to witness the gladiatorial battles. For them, it meant a day in the hot sun which for her meant an evening of thirsty patrons whom she had need to serve in addition to her bathhouse duties since their regular maid was sick.
Sighing, she scrubs the sink, eager for her bed when a dull murmur draws her attention behind her. Turning, she gasps. Just inside the doorway stands a man covered in blood.
She rushes forward, hands outstretched. “Oh my goodness, are you ok? Do you need help?” Her voice is shrill, nerves plain but when he looks at her she stops dead in her tracks.
“The only thing I need is a drink,” he replies gruffly, absentmindedly wiping some of the mess from his face with the towel he wrenches from her hand.
It’s then she realizes; none of the blood is his. And that observation brings about the realization that he is one of the gladiators. The only remaining one of the day. A shiver shakes her spine, eyes wide and teeth almost chattering. She’s frozen in shock, unprepared to be standing in front of a person of such…power.
“So, are you the barmaid or what?” His question snaps her back to attention.
“Yes! Sorry, um, please….ah….”her voice is shaking, and he cocks an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to kill you, you know,” he grunts.
“What? Oh, right, yes, thank you, I mean, not…oh geez.” Could she be any more awkward? Taking a deep breath, she hurries to the bar, quickly pouring him a drink and bringing it back. He downs in one go, handing the mug back to her then turns to leave. “Wait! Um, would you…would you like to partake of the bathhouse?” He turns, sharp eyes fixed on her face and sweat erupts on her neck. “It’s traditionary for our humble tavern to offer our services to the winner of the games, if you would be so pleased to use them. I’ll prepare your bath right away, please, have a seat and enjoy another drink!”
Before Iwaizumi can protest, she’s served another glass to him and rushes from the room. His body settles into a chair as he gathers the glass and drinks again. Sometimes he wonders at himself, why does he feel this need to enter the mortal realm from time to time? Is it merely to remind himself of his godhood? No, it isn’t that. More often than not, it is to remind himself about who worships him, who gives him thanks for good crops and favorable outcomes in war.
And to meet women who are beautiful in their imperfections. Such as the one rushing back in to lead him to the bathhouse, the largest they have onsite for his personal use tonight. It’s almost as though she knows, he is no mere mortal. He heard that phrase tossed about him like a swarm of flies today, a tiny part of him feeling slightly guilty that his opponents quite literally stood no chance of winning.
But he pushes away the feeling, cursing the minimal amount of humanity that manifests when he takes human form. They were weak soldiers who’d abandoned their ranks, tried for treason, brought for judgement. And who better to judge those whose lives were dedicated to war, if not the god of war himself?
“Here you are, I hope it is to your liking.” Her voice breaks into his thoughts and he casts his eyes past her form to the large bath. Steam rises and curls against the coolness of the night air seeping in through slots in the walls, but overall the room is warm and inviting. Candles line the perimeter, their glow bouncing off the white stone encasing the pool.
“I’ll bring you some food, I’m sure you’re quite hungry,” she offers and when he does not protest she leaves to retrieve fruit, nuts and bread, hoping against hope to find some sort of meat that isn’t too dry.
Iwaizumi stretches before setting down his weapon near the edge of the pool. God of war or not, it would not do well to be found ill prepared.
As she rushes back, the maid takes another deep breath. This male, he’s so…visceral! It’s as though he emits an aura of power unfelt by her from any other man she’s ever met. And he’s so handsome! Even covered in blood, she couldn’t help appreciating the strong line of his jaw, the sharp focus of his gaze, the-
She almost drops her burden upon entry to the bath. He’s stripped completely bare, readying himself to enter the water. Her throat constricts as her eyes drink in the ripple of muscles highlighted by the dancing flames surrounding them, his skin bronze and somehow smooth looking despite the caked-on dust, mud and blood. His foot breaks the tension of the water, a slight hiss emitting due to its heat. Blinking rapidly, with cheeks flushed crimson, she wonders if it’s too late to back out, to allow him privacy (worthless as it is given the clarity of the water) and come back in once she knows he’s ensconced in the water.
“If you’re going to stare, could you at least bring the food? I am rather hungry,” he drawls, looking over his shoulder at her as he descends fully into the bath.
“I…I…I’m sorry! Sir, forgive me for my disrespect, I-“
“Don’t fret about trivial issues. Besides, a man would be a fool to refuse the admiration of a lovely woman,” he interjects scrubbing himself quickly, eager to lose the stench of death from his skin. She must be dreaming because he’s smiling. Faintly, but still, his lips are tilted up just enough to make it present.
“Thank you,” she breathes, finally finding strength to step closer to the edge. Placing down the tray, she makes way to leave but his voice stills her once more.
“Perhaps, if you are not too busy, you wouldn’t mind assisting me to eat?”
Heart slamming against her ribcage, the maiden turns, eyes wide. “You…you wish me to stay?”
“Well, I can’t very well partake of the food with hands wet by essence filled water and dirtied by cleaning,” he chides. His tone may still be teasing, but the look in his eyes dares her to deny his wishes. This, she knows, is not part of her job, but she’s unsure if she could properly refuse. More so, she realizes, she doesn’t want to. Perhaps his aura is not just of a fighter against flesh and blood, perhaps he’s…possibly…seducing her? Does she dare to hope that someone so perfectly built, so handsome he’s almost beautiful would want her? He did call her lovely just a moment ago and-
“You have a habit of getting lost in your own mind, don’t you?” he asks, leaning against crossed arms on the edge of the pool. The oils have done their job, clumping the muck to the surface where the drains around the edges suck it down, leaving the pool gleaming once more, all evidence of his endeavors for the day washed away.
His proximity startles her, making her lose her footing. With a squeal, she trips over the long edge of her chiton, toppling backwards into the water sending waves rippling to the pools edges. As she rises, gasping for breath, it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to lose his.
The sheerness of her drenched gown leaves little to the imagination, the material clinging to pert nipples, breasts fully encased by the material clinging to her. He thought her pretty before, a nice face with good features, her hair, now ruined, formerly styled in a popular fashion for the day. But somehow, vulnerable, he thinks her ravishing.
Mortified for her blunder, the maid struggles to stand, apologies pouring from her lips. Strong hands upon her shoulders still the words on her tongue, her eyes locking with Iwaizumi’s. Oh gods, he’s naked! He’s naked and touching her while she is nearly the same thanks to the flimsiness of her attire. Her hands clutch his biceps, fingers kneading unconsciously against the taut muscles found beneath her pads and she gulps.
Iwaizumi knows what he wants, knows what he can take, but he waits, his gaze boring into hers. In what feels like forever and a moment at the same time, she leans ever so slightly into his hold and he takes it as his opening. One hand shoots behind her head, drawing her into a deep kiss. She moans against the feel of his tongue dancing with hers, sending fire raging through his body to his cock, firming him fully in an instant. He wastes no time, effortlessly tearing her garment and flinging it away.
Her mouth falls open in a cry as his lips descend to her neck, hands roaming from her waist to cup her breasts, thumbs tracing slow circles against her nipples. She gasps, hips bucking up though the movement is slower thanks to the water. Iwaizumi slides his hands around to her back, kneading her flesh as hers do the same to his arms, the feel of his strong shoulders making her knees weak.
“You…your arms,” she pants, “your arms are, so…amazing.”
He grins against her skin, nipping her shoulder. “Thank you, maiden,” he whispers against her ear. “Would you like these arms to bring you pleasure?”
“If it pleases, my lord, then yes,” she returns.
“Oh, it pleases me,” he growls, his hips thrusting forward to graze the tip of his cock against her now aching core, “it will please me greatly to have you, maiden.” He kisses the nape of her neck, trailing down to her shoulders, tasting flesh as he goes. She still smells faintly of stale ale and sweat but the scent somehow appeals to him. Fingers digging into her flesh, he appreciates the wealth of mass he finds; he likes something to hold on to.
The feel of his body pressed to hers is heavenly, but as her conscious mind descends briefly, she wonders at his want of her. She’s nothing special, a mere maid in a bar, too plain for the likes of someone so ethereal. When she expresses these thoughts to him he laughs.
“Perfection is overrated, trust me I’ve had it, I want you,” he affirms, mouth sealing over her breast and she arches fully into his embrace. “Do you wish to know, who it is you’re giving yourself to?” he asks, mouth sucking the soft flesh of her belly from where he’s propped her on the edge of the pool, his body pressed between her legs.
She nods, eyes widening as he reveals his true nature. His body glows, casting the candles into shadow, the gleam of his skin almost blinding. As the light fades, his eyes meet hers once more. “Do you know who I am?” he asks.
“Mars,” she whispers.
“Very good, but here you need call me Iwaizumi, or rather, Hajime” he praises, then resumes suckling her thighs, teeth creating deep crevice marks in her skin. She hisses, a mixed sound of pleasure and pain as he marks her thoroughly, taking his time, consuming her. His tongue against the mounds of her center has her squealing, body leaned against her elbows as she watches him enjoy her. Iwaizumi rolls his tongue languidly over her, drinking the nectar of her fruit and humming his approval of her taste. “You rival Venus in your flavor, maiden.”
“Do…do not speak…such lies,” she begs.
“I do not lie, I have no need of it,” he asserts, tugging her back into the water roughly. He flips her, pressing her chest against the stone wall, his cock sliding between the apex of her legs. “I’m going to take you now, as I see fit. Are you prepared…mortal?”
“Yes, Hajime.”
He slides in slowly, taking his time initially to allow her to gain opportunity to get use to his girth. Teeth almost biting through her lip, she takes him, allows him to taint her purity. Fullly seated, he holds her close, his tenderness surprising especially given who he is. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks one last time.
“Yes, please, please-“ her further begging is cut off with one hard thrust, the water rippling in response to Iwaizumi’s movements. Her fingers clasp the edge of the pool, voice raising in volume as he slams into her. His strength overpowers the normal resistance of the water, it’s slapping resounding in her ears as much as the roaring of her blood. Her blood feels like fire, throat raw from the efforts of breathing in the sweltering atmosphere and still he surges on, hips colliding with her ass.
“Hajime! Oh gods, I…Hajime!”
He doesn’t respond save to touch her clit with rough calloused fingers, rubbing firmly to send a wealth of sensation shooting through her nerves. Her head tosses back, catching against the firmness of his shoulder and he latches his lips to her neck once again, driving her higher while sating his own need.
Waves roll around them and she splutters as water cascades down her throat unexpectedly. Iwaizumi removes himself, swiftly jumping out of the pool with her in his arms to place upon her on hands and knees before sheathing himself once more. The smack of wet skin against wet skin echoes off the stone coupling with the still sloshing water till it’s all she can hear. She doesn’t even know how loud she’s screaming his name, the pleasure he’s imparting too good to care about decency.
How did she get so lucky? What did she do to earn the opportunity to literally be kissed by a god? To have her pleasure sought as much as he seeks his own? She marvels that the god of war could be so thorough a lover, so focused, so attentive to his partner, even when that partner is a mere mortal. She didn’t think it possible to fall in love in the midst of carnality and knows somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind it is foolish to even impart one step upon that road.
But as Iwaizumi slams into her, his grunts of praise penetrating to her consciousness, she doesn’t care. She’ll dedicate her life to him.
“Oh, oh gods, oh gods!” she shrieks clenching as release finally appears, sending her rolling down a hill, her mind spinning.
“Fuck,” Iwaizumi hisses, driving harder, smacking her ass, raking his nails on her skin. He’s marking her, tainting her, staining her as his. His own capitulation erupts deep in her body, sending a white, hot heat streaming into the very center of herself.
Unable to hold herself up, she collapses to the ground, the stone cool in comparison to the burn of her skin. In little time at all, she falls unconscious, unware of her surroundings any longer.
Months pass and Iwaizumi has of course returned to his own realm. She sighs while placing an offering at his alter. Some days, that night feels like a dream but she knows it was true.
It’s late evening again, the setting ironic in its similarity though this time instead of the tavern, Iwaizumi stands before the door of her home. He knocks and when she opens the door, his eyes are soft and warm as he takes in the look of surprise on her face. But as his trail downward, it’s his turn to be surprised.
He, the god of war, who’s felled enemies numbering in the tens of thousands, is brought to his knees by the sight of the woman he loves with her belly swelled by the seed of his offspring.
This was so good (as usual)!!! Also, make sure to get some well-deserved rest, hun! 😀
~Admin Kay
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