he was willing to completely drag his reputation through the mud for them

anonymous asked:

1 - murphyxreader

“Come over here and make me.”

This is smut.  Not necessarily explicit but still smut, okay.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you’d had your eye on one John Murphy for a long time.  There was something about his quick wit, sharp cheekbones and slim waist that had you hooked.  And if you were to be completely honest with yourself, you’d shared flirtatious looks with the rogue rebel 5 or 6 too many times to consider it a coincidence.  It was all fun and games you told yourself, mostly games, and you didn’t really think about it much until you began to see his blue-grey eyes at night. It’d gotten more intense since you both wound up alive at Camp Jaha, maybe it was the impending doom that had settled over the camp since they learnt about the looming fate of the delinquents in Mount Weather.

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Ghosts of Britannia: Chapter 1

AU. Sequel to When in Rome.

For every one of his twelve years of life, Marius Henricus Maximinus had always known exactly who he was. The adored only son of Marius Victorus Maximinus and his wife Rubinia, scion of a noble plebeian family, who lived in a comfortable townhouse near the Forum and attended its business with his father daily, who had his own tutor to teach him Greek, logic, grammar, geometry, music, and other arts of the civilized man, and who was surely destined for a post as legionnaire commander or provincial prefect. Until he was ten, Henricus had been sponsored by Emma Julia Aurelia, the daughter of the praetor urbani, but then her father had been made governor of far Britannia, and she had left Rome for good. Sometimes he missed her; she had taken a personal interest in him that went beyond the usual, and he had always thought of her as a favorite aunt or elder sister. Now in her place, Regina Sabina Milia saw to the maintenance of his interests instead, and Henricus was often reminded of what a fortunate lad he was, to have had two such great women as his patronesses. With the world at his disposal and a future as bright as the midday sun on the sea, he had never had cause to question anything about his life, and greatly doubted that he ever would.

It was the ides of February, the celebration of Lupercalia, in the year of the consulship of Hadrianus and Caesar, when Henricus’ tidy existence fell to pieces.

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