#Geta x fem reader

[multific]

The Lady Who Was Promised

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: Ever since he was little he had everything at his fingertips. So, when his parents promised him a lady, he had to have her no matter what.

As a young man, Geta understood that one day he and his brother would be Emperors. He knew what that meant, power.

When his father came up to him one day, telling him that he would have a wife one day, a lady who was promised to him, Geta hated the idea.

He didn't want a wife.

But then, as the years passed, Caracalla and he became Emperors, and he suddenly realized, he wanted this lady.

She was his after all.

She was promised to him.

And he liked to keep the things he had.

And so, word was sent out, soldiers were sent out to find the bride of the Emperor.

You were raised to be the perfect wife.

You were meant to be the wife of a Lord or King.

So, it came as no surprise when your father announced that you were promised to the new Emperors.

At the time he wasn't sure which one of the twins.

But later you learned his name, Geta.

You even saw him one time although he didn't notice you in the crowd.

He looked tall and handsome.

But he was insane.

You only heard one sentence from his mouth and you already knew, he was a cruel man.

You did not wish to be his wife.

But you had no other choice.

You knew that.

As the years passed, you found it strange you didn't hear about your marriage anymore.

The Emperors soon came into power.

You assumed the Emperor might have forgotten about you.

Then one day, three guards knocked on your door.

Your parents passed away a few months ago due to illness, you were alone.

"The Emperors requested your presence." there it was. Your past coming back to haunt you.

With no other choice, you were taken to the palace.

You were dressed in a wedding gown and soon, you stood by Emperor Geta vowing your life to him.

---

Your marriage with the Emperor became a clear desire for possession.

He wanted to have you, had to have you.

And so he did.

You were a pretty thing on his arm. That is all you were.

And somehow, you were okay with that.

It could be worse because even if your husband didn't like you, and only spoke to you in words instead of sentences, at the end of the day, you were still the Empress.

You could live in your old home, alone and cold.

This was at least interesting.

Parties and gladiator games.

You enjoyed most of those, even if you weren't a huge fan of blood.

And at least your husband was handsome.

You could have worse things to look at during dinner.

Caracalla on the other hand was rather chatty with you. He constantly keeps you entertained with his silly theories.

You knew of his sickness.

You felt truly bad for him, probably it was why you were nice to him.

Seeing how he behaved like a child, you had an instinct in you.

"You seem to enjoy my brother's company more than mine," Geta said to you one evening when he happened to have a cup more than he should have.

"He simply talks more with me." you replied and you watched his eyes. He got angry. "I wish you would talk more with me, Emperor Geta." you quickly said with a sad voice.

Now that changed everything.

His anger dissolved in seconds. You offered him a smile.

"I wish I could be your wife instead of an accessory." you added quickly before standing up. "Good night." you nodded your head and headed back to your room.

Little did you know what you had just done.

Your words stuck with the Emperor so much, that he was unable to sleep. He kept thinking.

You weren't a statue, vase or jewellery. Not a sword.

You were a lady.

His lady.

His wife.

The realization hit him like a cold shower.

The next morning he barged out of his room, scaring the servants.

"Where's my wife?" he asked.

"In the garden, she is on her daily walk." one of the servants replied.

Daily?

Geta didn't even know you took daily walks.

He quickly walked to the garden and there you were, alone, looking at the flowers and butterflies.

"Wife?" he called for you and you turned around rather surprised to see him. He usually slept until late after parties.

"Emperor." you bowed your head and he stopped close to you. He opened and closed his mouth.

He looked rather awkward.

As if he was unsure of what to say or do. Which was weird for him.

Seeing him like that reminded you of something your teachers told you.

"Men are usually clueless. You must lead them. But don't let them figure out you are leading them."

So, you took a deep breath.

"Hope you are doing well this morning."

"I didn't sleep. Your words kept me up all night."

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to hurt you."

"But you were right. You are my wife, I should be spending time with you. So, here I am." he looked around. "Which one is your favourite?" you blinked once, twice.

"I quite enjoy the roses." you ended up saying. "The white ones specifically."

"Oh, which one would be... the rose?"

You let out a small laugh at his expression. Geta smiled. Seeing you laugh, he hoped it was a good sign.

---

Geta and you grew closer and closer with each passing day.

You would go as far as to say you fell in love with him.

You might also know when it happened.

Probably it was the time when he made the gardens only have white roses for you.

"It is your favourite after all," he said with a smile as you looked around confused.

Or when he personally made sure the cooks prepared the food you liked the most.

"How dare you! You know well she doesn't like that kind of food! Cook her something else! Right now!"

Or when he had new clothes made for you along with beautiful jewellery made of gorgeous gems.

"This one has sapphires in it." he said as he held up a beautiful bracelet. "I'm told ladies enjoy this due to its beautiful colour." you looked at the blue gem.

"It is truly beautiful."

"Maybe, but your beauty will never be overshadowed by gems and clothes."

It could have also been when you were cold one evening. You couldn't sleep and walked around the palace, hoping to warm up.

You ran into him.

"What's wrong? You should be asleep."

"I'm cold." you replied with a small voice. He grabbed your hand and followed you back to your room.

He put a blanket over the two of you and pulled you close. You fell asleep to the voice of his heartbeat.

But it was possibly the time when he kissed you so sweetly under the moonlight.

"My beautiful wife." he whispered as his finger ran down your cheek with such love and care.

He slowly leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss.

You finally felt like his wife.

And that is exactly who you were, his beloved wife.

The Empress who was promised.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[darlingsfandom]

what’s mine is mine !

pairing: emperor geta x fem reader!

summary: Geta has met his match.

tw: public fucking, p in v, unprotected sex, nipple play, jealousy , cream pie! Mention of hairy pussy! That’s not really a warning because hairy pussy is 100% natural and valid ! Not proofread.

Rome, the city of beauty, romance and lust the place you’ve called home since birth has expanded further than anyone could ever imagine including yourself , but over the last few years you’ve been feeling like it’s not what you need anymore. You need more!

The city was busy as always as you walked around on the cobble stones holding the bottom of your tunica with a smile on your face. Everyone knew who you were but never dared to challenge you. They would smile and nod. You were the grand daughter of one of the men in Geta and Caracallas senate and that’s how you found yourself constantly wondering around in the palace drawing the twin emperors attention. It was no shock that the two would fight over you but you never gave them the satisfaction.

As you walked back into the palace after your usual morning stroll you stumbled across Geta standing there looking out at the streets below.

“My Emperor.” You nodded your head before bowing just enough that he could catch a glimpse of your breasts. Geta straightened his posture and held his head high almost looking down at you. You placed your hand over your heart and gave him a gentle smile , but little did he know what was lurking behind your lips.

“And just where have you been?” Geta asked as you went to walk away.

“Out for my morning walk, as I do every morning MY emperor.” You spat on the word my making sure he understood that you meant business. Just like Geta, you were also a selfish, crud human being however you were able to mask the ugliness in a way that no would ever suspect. Geta walked up to you, gripped the side of your throat and made you look into his enraged eyes. His nostrils flared as your eyes softened.

“Try again.” His grip on your neck tightened making you gasp. His ears perked up to the sweet little sound. “Because you know that I know exactly what goes on in my empire.” He spat back at you.

“Fuck you Geta.” You spoke quietly since he had a grip. Geta raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Fuck me? FUCK ME? How dare you! You’re nothing more than a senators grand daughter…”

“Who was birthed from Venus herself! And raised as if Pluto himself was still around! You don’t dare mess with me Geta.” You gritted your teeth before shoving him with what strength you had left. Get scuffed at you before rolled his eyes.

“And you seem to forget that the gods speak to me! I am emperor!”

“That you share with your brother! You could never be an emperor on your own!” You huffed rubbing your throat before you felt your back against the wall as Geta shoved you backwards. His hands quickly gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“Now I know you’re a sweet girl, what has you so worked up you dare tip toe the line to disobey me?” His nose rubbed against yours making you soften a little bit. Both of you stood silent looking in each other’s eyes. He could see the temper boiling behind them making him turned on.

“What’s mine is mine Geta! You are mine!” You lunged forward making Geta chuckle until he realized how what you just said was true. “I gave you my virginity many moons ago! Our souls are connected and you can not deny it. The fact I have to even say it like that makes me want to cry. The fact I witnessed you looking at a whore the way you look at me… what if I had looked at Caracalla the way I look at you? You’d have my head cut off in a second!” Anger boiled in your voice as your hands gripped onto his arms making him whimper a little since your nails were digging into his soft flesh.

Geta couldn’t deny what you were saying, he could easily have your head cut off but he also wouldn’t actually hurt a hair on your head. He was secretly soft for you and loved actually making love to you, yes fucking you was just as good but you were more than that, no one else was allowed to touch you the way he did. The issue between the two of you is that you’re both so stubborn but the difference is that you are actually acting upon your feelings for Geta. He stepped back and reached out to stroke your face as if you were made of glass. You titled your cheek into his hand.

“You my beauty, have no reason to be so jealous of such a common whore. I do not love her, she was a sight to look at. You, you’re a goddess and you know that. You are mine and only mine!” Geta ran his thumb over your bottom lip while you felt tears roll down your cherry cheeks.

“Then love me like you meant Geta! No more whores around the palace! No more staring at them until your brain is no longer functioning! If I am yours, then I want you to announce it to the gods themselves !” Your words were heard as Geta grabbed your face and kissed you hard. The kiss was nothing like you’ve felt from him before, it was making your stomach feel full of butterflies and your thighs clench together all at once. His lips moved away from yours so he could place his forehead to yours and look into your eyes.

“My beauty, I will do more than tell them and not just the gods, all of Rome will know who you belong too!” Geta pulled on your hand and took you out to the balcony. The people below stopped what they were doing when the heard the sound of Geta clearing his throat to speak but he did not say a word! You furrowed your eyebrows together in confusion as Geta put his hand on your back, pushed you over the edge enough that everyone got a good look at you and the crowd gasped when they realized it was you. As if the gods were actually watching, the sun poked through the dark clouds and illuminated your figure. Anxiety ran through your veins but your face would never show it.

Silence. Complete silence as Geta stood there holding you close until he opened his mouth.

“I will make this clear as I can so that no man will ever lay a finger upon MY beauty!” His words made you clench around nothing but your cheeks turned even redder by the second. Geta stood behind you , untied your tunica and let it fall exposing your naked body making the crowd gasp. “A true beauty shaped and birthed from Venus herself and she belongs to me. No one shall harm a hair on her head nor shall they try to make love in way to her, if anyone shall try then you will be meeting the gods sooner than you’ve thought.” He placed his hands on your breasts and massaged them slowly, rolling your hardened nipples inbetween his fingers while his lips kissed along your neck making sure to suckle on the delicate skin that made your eyes roll back.

Geta did not care who watched as he ran his fingers down your body until he reached your hips. He moved his lips along your shoulder as he moved his hands to your plushy thighs and spread them apart. His fingers trailed along your hairy folds. A soft moan escaped your lips as his finger slowly slid inside of you. Geta moaned at how wet you already were. The fact that he could easily fuck you in a public place and every other nasty kink you had made him feel proud. His finger slowly moved in and out of you making you bite your bottom lip to which Geta squeezed your cheeks with his free hand and made you open your mouth. You were melting into his touch.

Geta smirked as he leaned in and spit into your mouth making the crowd below you make mixed noises. You swallowed eagerly and Geta county deny how attracted he was to you. Who on earth would allow something like that? But that’s why he was attracted to you. His finger pulled out of your wet cunt and slipped into your mouth. You sucked softly on his finger as he spread open your legs, bent you over the railing and worked on lifting up his on tunic. His cock was leaking with milky pre-cum, the feeling of his wet head rubbing against your hairy folds made you moan around his finger until he pulled it away and wiped it on your cheek. You smiled until you felt the head of his cock pushing inside of you.

“Geta!” You whimpered as he eased into your warm hairy cunt .

“That’s it , tell them who is pleasing you so well!” He gripped onto your hips tightly as he pushed his cock all the way in making you grip the railing until your knuckles turned white. Geta groaned at stretching you out, the way you were mumbling below him made him close his eyes. He waisted no time in bottoming out before he railed you over the railing. The sound of his balls slapping against your wet cunt echoed to the people who were still watching below. A few of those people were also touching their bodies as Geta took no mercy on your cunt. You were a whimpering mess until Geta wrapped his arm around your waist and held you up straight so he could play with your nipples while his cock pounded into your cunt.

Sweat covered your skin as Geta praised how good you feel. His fingers twisted your nipples making you yelp at first before he pulled on them. His lips attacked your neck with kisses while his hand reached down and pressed his finger against your clit to rub it fast. The added pleasure had your knees buckling as your orgasm rushed inside of you.

“Geta , Geta , please , I … oh I feel..”

“I know you do, I can feel how wet you’re getting, how hard you’re squeezing me! Show them! Show them how good you’re feeling, let it go.” Geta whispered into your ear and nibbled on your ear lobe which sent you over the edge.

“GETA!” You cried out as your orgasm ripped through your body, making your knees shake and in a surprise your body was in a state of pleasure that you actually squirted against his cock, soaking him and Geta was beyond pleased. You were the first one to ever orgasm like that for him.

“What a beautiful sight!” He couldn’t hold back his own orgasm and groaned out as his cum shot into your cunt. You could feel him filling you up. The warm sticky liquid dripped down your thighs since he had such a big load. Geta used his fingers to scoop his cum up and shove them into your mouth that was panting. You suckled greedily as Geta stood behind you with a satisfied smirk while the crowd below cheered.

“Let it be known that what’s mine is mine and she is mine!” Geta clapped his hands as he did a loud boom of thunder sounded making him smirk. Geta got exactly what he wanted and so did you. You stood up slowly as he admired the number he did on you. Your neck was covered in purplish marks , cum covered thighs and pupils blown, a true beauty in his mind a beauty that belonged to him.

[keeryhours]

an heir for an emperor - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

The Emperor wants an heir.

part 2 out now!

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), major breeding kink, porn no plot

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:

This is inspired by a character letter I got that I can’t stop thinking about. If this is historically incorrect I’m so sorry, I’m just horny as hell for this man.

—

It had been three blissful months of marriage with Geta.

The ruthless emperor was something different when he was alone with you. A side of him no one else was privileged to see. He was soft, affectionate, eyes only for you.

He knew you didn’t care for the bloodshed of the games, but he loved having you accompany him all the same. He would distract you when things got to be too much, holding your hand and even turning his attention away from the spectacle to comfort you if you needed it.

He couldn’t show his soft side in public often, but his love and adoration for you was obvious.

You enjoyed the finer things in life. You loved to attend the theatre, the plays and displays of beautiful music. Music was your favorite thing, and you loved to sing. Your singing voice was of the angels, as Geta would say, and oh how he loved to make you sing.

One thing both you and Geta were looking forward to was producing an heir. You had always wanted a family. You had felt the call of motherhood since you were a child, dreaming of the day you would marry and bear children. You hadn’t even fathomed of being an Empress, however.

You came from a rich family, and always knew you would marry highly, but Geta had been unexpected. The second he laid eyes on you, he knew you were to be his. You had no choice in the matter, but you would have chosen him a million times over anyway.

He had planned a romantic weekend getaway for the two of you alone, in one of his villas outside of the city. Leaving Rome in the hands of his brother and the Senate wasn’t ideal, but he wanted the chance to spend time with his beloved without interruption.

“You look divine, Carissima,” Geta remarked in adoration, his hands roaming the fabric of your tunic, gaze hungry. He pulled the fabric higher, lifting it up and over your body. “You will provide me with the most perfect heir.”

Naked before him, your nipples peaked among the cool air on your body, Geta dipping his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, tongue running over the sensitive bud. You moaned, hand resting on the back of his head. He moved to the other, giving it equal attention.

He lay you gently down on the bed, before removing his own clothing and moving over top of you. His crown still sat atop his ginger locks, and he looked as regal as ever, bared to you and cock achingly hard, all for you.

“I never imagined I would have such a luminous beauty as my wife,” he hummed, lips trailing along the skin of your neck. “Never could I have imagined a beauty like yours existed. You are sent from the gods themselves.”

“As are you, my beloved,” you said, eyes falling closed at the feeling of your husband’s lips upon your body. “You are more than I ever could have hoped for.”

Geta smiled tenderly, before pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back eagerly, hands sliding around his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your palms, your innocent touch making him impossibly harder against your thigh. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, and you let him inside, tongues dancing together.

He rested his weight on one arm while the other roamed the soft skin of your side, making you shiver beneath his touch. “Magnificent,” he remarked purely to himself. “Beautiful.”

He pulled away from you, sitting on his knees as he spread your legs for his view. You took in the visage of your Emperor before you, looking regal as ever as he gazed down at your core like it was his next meal.

“Just a taste, Carissima, before I fill you,” he said, moving down between your legs. You gasped as you felt his tongue against your pussy, licking up to your clit, where he sucked gently, causing your back to arch off the bed.

“Geta-!”

He hummed in appreciation, a smirk felt against you as he continued to devour you, lapping up all your slick like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. You moaned loudly - no one would be able to hear you here, you were in Geta’s private villa far from the bustle of the city. It was the most uninhibited you had felt as you let the proof of how good your Emperor made you feel fill the air.

“That’s it, my love, sing for me,” Geta praised you, before dipping his tongue into your hole, driving you mad. You grabbed onto his hair as you felt your orgasm approaching, needing to hold onto something. Geta chuckled lowly as he grabbed onto your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

“I’m…I’m…”

“I know, darling, let go for me,” He said, moving back up to pay special attention to your clit once more. The harsh suck he left on the sensitive bud sent you over the edge, and you were cumming hard, grinding against his face as he moaned and eagerly licked up all you gave him.

When he rose from between your legs, his mouth and chin glistened with your wetness. He looked absolutely sinful. He wrapped his hand around his cock, rings glittering on his fingers. He pumped himself a few times as he looked down at your already-wrecked body.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed so deeply, my love. Over and over again until it takes, until I get to see your belly round and full with my heir.”

You wanted that more than anything, the idea making your heart race in your chest. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance, and he leaned over your body again as he pushed inside.

It had only been three months, so you were still getting used to the intrusion of him when you’d lay together like this. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers digging into the strong muscle of his biceps.

“You can take it, my love. So good for me - gods, so tight and hot.” He began a slow pace, mindful of letting you adjust to the size of him. He groaned beautifully as he began thrusting into you, and you were struck with how lucky you were to see your Emperor like this, so open and vulnerable, face contorted in pleasure because of you.

“Are you ready for me to move faster?” he asked, voice strained from holding back his true desire. The Emperor pleaded with no one, but his eyes told a different story.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, now that the pain has faded you wanted, needed more. “Please, Geta, need you to fill me.”

Geta groaned loudly, hips stuttering against you as he picked up his pace. He was truly fucking you now, left hand gripping your hip to hold you where he wanted you as he pounded into you. “I will do just that, Carissima, fill you so deeply with my heir. I wish to see you, glowing and beautiful with child. I will hold games in your honor.”

He pressed his lips to yours once again, kissing you deeply, showing you just how much he loved you with his body. Between the feeling of his glorious cock pressing deeply inside of you, pressing against that perfect spot he reached every time.

“You are magnificent,” he moaned, regal head thrown back on his shoulders, muscles clenching as he fought off his release. “Divine. Miraculous. All mine.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you writhed beneath his movements, and he moved his free hand to caress the side of your face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my Emperor,” you said, returning all the affection in his gaze.

“Need to feel you cum for me, my love,” he said, hips picking up speed as his own release approached rapidly. He moved to grip your thigh around his waist, moving into you at a new angle that had you seeing stars.

You cried out as your second orgasm hit, and Geta smiled cockily, knowing he was the only one who could bring you such pleasure, the only one privileged to see you like this, falling apart on his cock for him.

“Oh gods, Geta, yes-!”

“That’s it, my love, let me hear you,” Geta rasped out, his own release hitting him seconds later. “Take me, my beloved, take all of my seed! Gods yes, let me fill you, take it all,” he rambled on as he shot ropes of his hot cum deep inside you, pushing in as deep as possible to not waste a drop.

He stayed buried inside you as you both caught your breath. His strong chest was heaving with his heavy breaths, and he tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, looking at you with such love it made your heart stutter in your chest.

When he pulled out, he looked between your legs, gathering up his release that had spilled out of you with his fingers and pressing it back inside. “Cannot afford to waste a drop, Carissima,” he told you with a smile.

You giggled, totally blissed out from the pleasure he had just provided you. He lay his naked body on the bed next to you, resting his hand on your stomach.

“I truly cannot wait to see you carrying my heir,” he mused quietly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin of your abdomen, as if he were picturing it. “Our child.”

“Neither can I,” you told him, a blissful smile on your face.

“I would do this over and over again, as many times as it takes.”

You laughed, snuggling against the side of your Emperor. “I know you would.” You hummed, fingers trailing over the taut skin of his muscular chest. “I love you.”

“And I you, my beloved.”

[songbirdmunson]

when men pathetically rut into you at an animalistic pace, trying to fight back the urge to moan like a slut, but once you drag your nails down their back they can’t shut up. telling you how they want you to mark them up, how they want everyone to see what you do to them. their hair falling into their eyes as every muscle in their body tenses, their orgasm threatening to break at any moment. wrapping your legs around them, pulling them closer and closer until every inch is deep inside of you, the wetness from your bodies running down your thighs and underneath you. yeah, give me that. <3

[strawbbzombwie]

Treasure.

Warnings: This is definitely not historically accurate but I’ll try my best😭 18+ so MDNI!! Emperor geta x fem!reader, Geta is possessive asf, P in v smut, loss of virginity, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, Geta and reader are newly married.

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: This is my first proper time writing a fanfic so I hope it’s alright and you enjoy it!!🫶🫶

~

“You seem nervous.” Geta spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts. You set eyes on your new husband, his back facing you as he set down the chalice of wine he held in his hand.

Your eyes scanned the chambers now belonging to you and him, dimly lit with candles casting a shadow over Geta. The nervous pit in your stomach grew more and more unbearable as time went on. Finally, his eyes met yours.

“Should I be nervous?” You muttered. He smirked at you, his dark eyes gazing into yours and scanning the rest of your body, practically undressing you with his eyes. You wore a white tunic adorned with a golden belt tied around your waist, your wrist covered with a golden bracelet and now a golden ring on your finger.

To Geta, you were an angel sent from the heavens themselves. He felt proud to call you his wife, proud he got to call you his before any other man could. To him, you were his treasure, his most prized possession and his empress.

“Of course not. I won’t hurt you.” He smiled at you, running his hand across your soft skin. You felt his calloused fingers run down your face, his cold rings making you shiver. You looked up at him, smiling back at him. His thumb grazed across your bottom lip. You could feel your face growing warm, the nervous feeling in your stomach disappearing and being replaced with arousal.

He cupped your face in his hand and interlocked his lips with yours, sharing a passionate kiss. His lips felt soft against your own, the sweet but bitter taste of wine now invading your mouth. It felt intoxicating, sharing an intimate moment with your new husband felt comforting to you but the slight ache between your legs grew more agonising the more time he spent kissing you.

His hand left your face, moving to your shoulder and slipping the fabric down and then down to your belt, untying the knot and letting it fall down onto the floor, your tunic pooling around you shortly afterwards.

You felt vulnerable. There you were, completely exposed and at his mercy. You felt his soft lips leave yours and watched as he took a step back to look at you. He looked you up and down, the smile on his face clear as day.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re all mine.” He said, lust dripping from his voice. Those last two words made your knees weak.

“All mine.”

He was right, you were all his. You were his empress, his wife, the mother to his future children. You were his and belonged to no one else. You were his to fuck. To claim. To breed. If anyone else were so much as to look in your direction, he would kill them with his own hands.

“I’m all yours..” you mutter, arousal pooling between your thighs. He grinned, leading you to the bed now belonging to you and him.

“Lay down.” He commanded, beginning to take off his own garments. You obeyed, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. You began to feel nervous again. There was no denying that Geta has had sex before. You on the other hand, were still a virgin. Geta could see the panic on your face and speaks up.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start slow so it wont hurt. I wouldn’t dream of hurting a pretty girl like you.” He reassured you, the praise causing you to hold back a moan. He finally finished untying his belt, also letting his robes fall to the floor. Your eyes immediately went down to his cock. Now you understood why he carried himself with confidence.

He was thick, not too big but big enough to make you feel nervous and he was fully hard, the tip red and angry resting against his stomach leaking precum.

Your eyes widened, brows furrowing in worry as you now realised that this was truly happening, you were about to lose your virginity. Geta walked up to you and sat down next to you, pressing soft kisses on your jawline and down your neck, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth.

“Relax and let me make you feel good” he groaned, his hand caressing your body, resting on your stomach, his rings making you jump.

“Soon enough you will be carrying our heir. The future emperor of Rome.” He whispers in your ear, his warm breath causing you to shiver. He leans down, pressing a kiss onto your stomach and kissing up your body, your tits and eventually back to your neck.

His hand wandered further down until it was between your legs, lightly grazing his fingers across your cunt, causing you to moan out. It was music to his ears. He wanted to make you a moaning mess only for his ears to hear, only for him. It made him proud, knowing he would be the one making you moan and whine in pleasure, knowing he would be the one making you cum around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your orgasms.

His index finger pressed against your clit, beginning to rub it in slow circular motions. Your head fell back and moans of pleasure began to fall out of your mouth. You felt your body grow weak.

“You’re doing to well for me.” He said, a smirk growing on his face as he took his finger off your clit and pressed it against your entrance, feeling your slick coat his fingers. He slowly pushed his finger inside of you, causing you to yelp out. It hurt but the pain was quickly replaced by pleasure as he began moving his finger in and out of you, quickly finding that spot within you that made you grip onto his arm.

You could feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter as he inserted another finger, his palm bumping against your clit. His eyes were dark with lust as his gaze met yours, lips interlocking with one another’s as you came undone with his fingers.

He moved away from you, removing his fingers from you and bringing them up to his mouth, tasting the slick coating them. You whined at the empty feeling but could not take your eyes off the sight in front of you.

“You taste divine.” He says, removing his fingers from his mouth and moving so he’s situated between your thighs, gazing down at his lovely wife. He gathered your arousal on his fingers and coated it on his cock, adjusting himself so he is pressed against your entrance.

“You’ll feel great I promise.” He whispers, slowly pushing himself inside of you, causing you to whimper in pain while he bottomed out. He took his time, letting you adjust to him inside of you before slowly thrusting in and out.

Moans began falling out of your mouth as your hands gripped the bedsheets, your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your legs wrapped around his hips, wanting him to be closer to you.

Geta was watching you unravel right in front of him, watching how your tits bounced every time he thrusted into you, watching how your eyes rolled back in pleasure. It made him proud, knowing he was finally claiming you as his own. He could feel his own orgasm building up as he moved his hand to rub fast circles on your clit as he quickened his pace.

The knot in your stomach became unbearable as your sounds of ecstasy grew louder, your hands gripping to Geta’s arms.

“Go on. Cum for me.” He moans out, causing the knot to snap and for you to come undone around his cock, twitching in pleasure. Geta’s thrusts began to grow sloppy as he unravels in front of you, spilling his seed inside your pussy.

A few moments pass and you are both a sweaty, panting mess. He pulls out of you and watches the cum leak out from you, scooping it up and pushing it back inside you with his fingers. You quietly moaned at the sensation.

“Can’t have any go to waste can we?” He smiled. You slowly shook your head, eyes growing tired as your body begins to feel heavy. Geta lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your cheek.

“You did so well for me.” He mumbled into your ear, his hot breath feeling comforting as you both begin feeling tired. His hand finds its way to your stomach again, rubbing small and slow circles around it. You feel your eyes begin to close as you hear your husband say something before you drift off to sleep.

“My perfect treasure.”

~

I really hope you enjoyed reading this I loved making it and hopefully I will write more soon!!This is my first fic so it may not be as good as ones I write in the future but I’m super proud of it!!💖💖

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy! preview two

ONE

A starry night, as though the gods themselves had blessed the heavens. You stand in the place where you often meet General Acacius to maintain appearances. He will spend the day attending to Emperors Geta and Caracalla alongside his wife, Lucilla. Meanwhile, your day will revolve around the gladiators—or, more precisely, their wounds. You have been summoned to tend to the gladiators who will participate in that day's opening of the games—battles they will wage against one another or against beasts. Your thoughts are divided between Marcus Acacius and Hanno, the gladiator you strongly suspect harbors intentions of avenging his wife’s death at Acacius's hands.

"Mea domina, you are here," General Acacius murmurs as he approaches, though his complexion appears unusually pale. He is dressed in a tunic that conceals most of his body, with a laurel crown adorning his head. The lateness of the hour and the absence of natural light obscure your view, but as he draws nearer, you notice a wound bleeding on his arm. You rush toward him, your concern overcoming any formality. Without hesitation, you expose the area of his injury, removing the fabric to inspect it. His skin is feverishly warm beneath your touch.

"Who did this to you, Acacius?" you ask, a wave of anger surging through your body, mingling with an overwhelming sense of concern. "By the Gods, you should have come to me sooner," you say, your voice laced with frustration as your fingers graze his fevered skin, causing him to shiver under your touch. You guide him to a nearby bench, urging him to rest. Knowing him well, you suspect he has concealed his injury from everyone, unwilling to reveal any vulnerability. Fortunately, all are accustomed to you tending to him—it is, after all, one of your roles as his lover.

"I did not wish to trouble anyone, least of all you, Y/N," Acacius replies, his tone steady as he attempts to mask his discomfort. "A gladiator loosed an arrow at me—it must have struck me somehow. Macrinus certainly knows how to select skilled men for his arena." His voice retains its commanding timbre, though his actions betray his weariness. He pulls you closer by the waist, resting his head against your abdomen, as though seeking solace in your presence.

"General, we must go to the place where Ravi keeps his instruments. I must tend to your wounds and return you, whole and well, to your wife," you say, holding Acacius' face in your hands, as if willing him to remain conscious. His deep brown eyes meet yours, their gaze uncharacteristically tender.

"But this is my time with you," he whispers, taking your hands in his and pressing a kiss to each. "And I have told you, you need not address me as General. Our relationship has long surpassed formalities," he says, his voice softer now as he finishes kissing your hands. A fleeting thought tempts you to lean down and kiss him, but before you can act, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. Guards arrive, accompanied by Lucilla and Ravi. You instinctively want to withdraw from Acacius, but his unconscious state forces you to hold him upright.

"Take my husband to his quarters. Ravi is here to see to his treatment," Lucilla commands, her tone dismissive, her gaze avoiding yours entirely. The guards comply, carrying the now-limp Acacius away.

"Y/N," Lucilla addresses you, her voice sharp and deliberate, "from this moment forward, Ravi will be responsible for Acacius' care. I trust the gladiators will suffice to occupy your attention." Her words, though polite in form, carry an unmistakable message: your role as Acacius' lover is nearing its end. Vulnerability washes over you, but you lower your head in acknowledgment, as if understanding her decree. Without another glance, she follows the guards to accompany her husband.

Ravi approaches, carrying his instruments and tools. "I need you to go to Macrinus' gladiator and tend to his wounds. Macrinus has already informed the guards of his gladiator's need for treatment, so you need not fear," Ravi instructs, already preparing to attend to Acacius himself. Fear is far from your mind. The only sentiment stirring within you is anger, directed at the one who dared harm Acacius. You nod in silent agreement and gather the necessary supplies to treat the gladiator, your resolve firm as you set out to fulfill your task.

The guards grant you entry without hesitation, their expressions indifferent. Inside the dimly lit cell, you find Hanno—his body marred by fresh wounds, his face pale but defiant. He appears battered, as though every ounce of strength has been drained from him. Anticipating the state you might find him in, you came prepared with tools to clean his wounds, at least superficially.

"The lovely healer graces me with her presence once more," Hanno mutters, his tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and faint amusement. A strained smile flickers across his lips as he clutches his abdomen, evidently in pain. "I suppose you're here to finish what the guards so generously began." His voice is hoarse and weakened, yet it retains a biting edge.

A chill runs through you as you step closer to him, fully entering his cell. The air feels heavier here, and his piercing gaze follows your every move. "They must have hurt you for what you did to General Acacius," you state, your voice measured as you kneel, setting down your tools. The mention of Acacius draws no sign of remorse from Hanno; instead, he seems emboldened, inching himself nearer to you with deliberate subtlety. As you settle beside him, his proximity becomes undeniable, his rugged presence filling the confined space. Though weakened, there’s an unsettling calm in his demeanor, as though he is testing you, seeking something unspoken within your resolve.

As you begin to cleanse his wounds, the facade of the formidable gladiator crumbles beneath the weight of his pain. Low, anguished groans escape his lips despite his efforts to suppress them. It becomes clear that he is suffering deeply, though he clings to the last vestiges of his pride.

"Ah, here we are again," Hanno murmurs between strained breaths, his voice laced with an uneven mixture of sarcasm and torment. "You, seizing the opportunity to inflict more pain under the guise of tending my wounds, and I, striving to focus on your beauty to mask just how much it hurts."

A flicker of anger rises within you, mingled with a reluctant pity for the state of his battered body. "Flattery will not grant you any special treatment," you reply sharply, leaning in closer to examine his injuries more thoroughly. "I warned you not to harm Acacius dishonorably. I thought you might exercise restraint, but I was mistaken."

With deft movements, you remove the upper portion of his tattered garment to gain better access to the worst of his injuries. He offers no resistance, watching you with an unsettling mix of amusement and interest, as if savoring the attention. "I do recall saying I would take your request under consideration," Hanno says nonchalantly, as though the matter were trivial.

Frustrated by his flippant attitude, you press a tender wound more firmly than necessary. He lets out a guttural cry of pain, his composure faltering for a moment. "Forgive me," you say with a mocking smile, your tone cold. "I must have forgotten to take your suffering under consideration."

He meets your gaze, a faint, knowing grin curling his lips as if he derives some twisted pleasure from your defiance. "If you wish to exact vengeance, then take the dagger you’ve hidden and drive it into my heart," he says, his voice low and steady, despite the evident strain. "It is the only way to shield your precious General Acacius from my wrath." Hanno leans closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, the proximity of his battered form unsettling. His observation of the concealed blade leaves you momentarily stunned, your grip tightening as the tension between you hangs heavy in the air.

"Is that what you believe I should do—kill you?" you ask, a faint trace of amusement in your tone as you marvel at Hanno's audacity. He leans closer to your face, his gaze sharp and provocative.

"If protecting him is your goal, then yes," Hanno replies, his voice steady, his eyes fixed upon yours with an intensity that borders on insolence.

You smile, intrigued by how easily he speaks of his own demise. "General Acacius is a wise and seasoned warrior. He will know how to deal with you," you say, leaning in as if accepting the challenge his very presence seems to demand.

"If you think I seek an honorable battle with Acacius solely to shield him," you continue, your voice steady and measured, "then you are gravely mistaken. Look at yourself, gladiator. To achieve vengeance, it is not merely strength or skill you require. A true fighter knows which battles are worth fighting." Your hand moves deftly to clean a wound near his neck, blood still seeping from it. He winces slightly but does not pull away, his sharp blue eyes never leaving your face.

"The way you speak, it seems as though you've developed an affection for me, healer," Hanno remarks, his tone soft but probing. "If that is the case, why carry a dagger?" He gently grasps your arm, his grip firm yet careful, as if urging you to give him your full attention.

"Because the wife of General Acacius made it clear before the guards that I will no longer tend to his care. For many of the men here, that declaration is as good as an invitation to see me as their sport," you reply, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes.

For a moment, something shifts in his expression—a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "I see," he murmurs, his voice lower now. "Then show me. Show me how you would wield it to defend yourself." Though puzzled by his request, you reach for the dagger and position it as you would in a moment of self-defense, your stance steady and deliberate. His eyes follow your movements with a keen focus, his lips curving into a faint, almost approving smile as he observes your resolve.

"You’re holding it incorrectly," he says, taking your hands, still clutching the dagger, and guiding them to a precise spot on the left side of his chest. "Here. Strike here on any opponent—more than once, if need be—and you’ll increase your chances of survival," he instructs, his voice steady, his grip firm but not overbearing.

You had never considered the necessity of knowing how to fight; before Acacius, your late husband had always been there to shield you. But now, an unsettling vulnerability lingers, heavy and unshakable.

"You place too much trust in me," you murmur, your gaze locked with his. "I could hurt you with this dagger right now."

His lips curl into a faint, genuine smile, weak but without hesitation. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if you did," Hanno replies, the tension between you thickening.

You drop the dagger back to its place, snapping yourself out of the moment. "Turn around. I need to apply an herbal salve to the wound on your back so I can retire to my quarters. It has been a long day," you instruct, watching as he complies without protest. His physique, sculpted as one would expect of a gladiator, does not escape your notice. But before your thoughts can wander too far, you refocus, applying the salve with care. He grunts softly at the touch, his pain audible but restrained.

"I could teach you how to defend yourself," Hanno murmurs as you finish tending to his wounds. Once done, he turns to face you, his expression expectant.

"Are you certain you wish to help me, knowing my loyalty lies with General Acacius?" you ask, genuine curiosity laced in your tone.

He lifts a hand to your face, his touch gentle as he caresses your cheek. "Something tells me you need help, and I want to offer it. General Acacius or not, this is about you," he emphasizes, pointing at you, "and me," he finishes, gesturing to himself.

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze stirs something within you. Perhaps it would be wise to accept his offer. "Very well, gladiator," you reply, taking the hand that had touched your face and grazing it softly with your fingertips. "Teach me what you know, and I promise to mend you each time you require it."

[fel-09]

Words 292

Geta x reader

Night problems

He paced around the room, clad in nothing but a robe, his movements restless. You lay in his bed, wrapped snugly in a blanket, watching him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. His disheveled appearance betrayed his frustration as he muttered under his breath, gnawing at his fingernail.

Unable to contain the growing tension, he suddenly let out a sharp cry, raked his fingers through his hair, and flopped down onto the bed beside you. His arms instinctively sought your half-asleep form, pulling you close as he buried his face against your chest, inhaling your soothing scent. Slowly, his breathing steadied, the chaotic energy dissipating bit by bit.

His fingers began a lazy path along your side, trailing upward as he encircled you in a firm embrace. Holding you as tightly as he could, he closed his eyes, seemingly finding solace in your presence.

But then, as if summoned by the quiet moment, your cat leapt onto the bed, curling up smugly beside you. The feline’s very presence prevented him from hugging you as he wished. He froze, his irritation flaring anew.

“That’s it—I’ve had enough!” he exclaimed, springing from the bed with a dramatic flourish. Pointing accusingly at the cat, he huffed, “This is the seventh time tonight! Seven! I can’t take it anymore—it’s either me or him!”

By now, you were half-awake, your drowsy state disturbed by his antics. Blinking at him in exasperation, you sat up, your patience finally worn thin. Without a word, you marched to the bedroom door, opened it, and motioned for him to leave.

He stood outside the closed door like a chastised schoolboy, his shoulders slumped. After a brief pause, his voice called softly through the barrier.

“Darling…?”

Your cat, still curled up on the bed, let out a contented purr. It was clear who had won this round.

------

If there are enough likes here I will return Geta back to the room~

Yes, I am a manipulator ~

[r4fe-cam3ron]

Geta has a random concubine then dismisses her, she is new not his regular. Reader falls pregnant but tells no one fearing she and her child being targeted. She tries to run and somehow geta finds out. He gives chase and promises to protect her and the child.

thank you for this request love!!! i hope i give you something you can enjoy! <3 w; talks of pregnancy and death and m*rder, spoiler free zone, slight ooc geta - happy ending though (also, historically inaccurate omg yall im so sorry)!

it’s been four months and you realize something.

you’ve missed…two important dates. and there’s also something that makes you regret eating - smelling - the fruits and meats that geta so gracefully offers you everyday.

then, glancing in the small mirror of the room you stay in - you pause. the small, barely there, bump catching your eyes.

to anyone, they wouldn’t be able to see it right away. but you know your body better than anyone else.

worrying your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes lift from your belly and to your face - slightly more rounded cheeks.

placing a hand on your stomach, a shuddering breath leaves your lips.

you’re carrying a child.

there’s a fleeting emotion of happiness - you’ve always pictured yourself raising a child. you’ve seen others do it and the joy on their faces is one that you could never match.

then it’s sadness. anxiousness.

your hand grips at your side softly before turning away. you could not speak to anyone about this. not even geta - you couldn’t imagine what he would say.

or worse - what his brother would say.

you loved geta, deeply. more than you could ever love yourself you believe. you wouldn’t burden him.

you’d leave.

—

“what do you mean, she’s not in her room?” geta stands from his chair, face scrunched in fury as he stares at the woman who looks as if she’s about to pass out from his tone.

“i-i went inside, emperor, she’s not in her room,” she says once again, voice stumbling over her words and hands shaking. “i don’t know where—”

geta waves a hand, dismissing her, but stepping away himself and out into the stretching hallway. he’s quick on his feet when he steps outside, going to see if he could see anything, but he’s stopped when he sees you being tugged by your arm up the steps.

you look up at him regretfully, before quickly looking away.

“thank you. i’ll take her from here.”

the metal of his rings dig into your bicep when he pulls you up the reminder of the steps - your feet stumbling over themselves as tears threatened to slip down your cheeks.

his chest is heaving - from the walk or anger, you weren’t for sure. but it unsettles you.

entering his room and being dragged towards his bed, he pushes you down onto the plush covers, staring down at you.

you slowly peek up at him, shifting in your spot when you turn your head away.

“you can not leave here. you are mine to keep.” spittle had flew from his mouth, a finger pointing in your direction. the vein in his neck raises below the surface of his pale skin.

you flinch from the loudness — eyes squeezing shut as your head turns. you now feel like the child being scolded.

“i am sorry, geta, i was—”

“that’s not good enough. sorry means nothing to me,” he leans closer. you keep your eyes shut. “open them,”

your spine straightens slightly from his lowered voice. slowly opening your eyes, you look at him through your lashes.

“that is nothing but a mere word to me. apologies mean—”

“i’m with child.” your eyes widen once it spills from your mouth, your own voice unrecognizable. your hand clasps over your own mouth as tears finally spill from your eyes.

geta stares - eyes almost as wide as yours, lips parting like a gaping fish. he then closes his mouth and swallows before slowly lifting from his hunched position. “is that why you were leaving?”

your hand drops from your mouth and to your lap. “yes,” you nod. “i was afraid.”

“of what?”

“you. your brother. the people,” you stand from the bed now. “this is not something they will consider seriously. they’ll burn me,”

that was figuratively and literally speaking. they would find anyway to kill you and the baby in your womb.

“i will not have you be killed either over this. it’s not worth it.”

his face softens at those words, forehead creasing slightly with confusion. “what do you mean?”

“i mean - it’s not worth it,” you repeat with a shake of your head. “i am not worth—”

his hands grab your biceps once again, startling you and effectively cutting your rant short. “you can not tell me how i feel,” he shakes his head. “i will not allow it - especially if it is you saying you are worth nothing—”

“geta, i am nothing but a woman who is—”

“again,” he cuts your words short, brows lifting slightly. “i will not allow it. i will not stand here and let you speak lowly about someone i love.”

your eyes widen, never looking away once. “l-love?”

he waits a moment, but nods. “yes,” he answers curtly. “i do…” he clears his throat. “i have grown to love you more than what i should. more than what feels possible.”

“oh,” you breathe out. geta’s hands drop from your arms quickly, your words throwing him through a big loop. he was for sure—

“i’ve grown quite fond of you as well.” you smile softly.

his heart skips a beat, eyes dropping shut for a moment before they open once again, a smile tugging at his lips. “that’s all i needed to hear,” he cups your jaws and your hands quickly wrap around each wrist, lips pressing into the palm of his right hand.

“we will marry. and you will carry my child.”

“but, caracalla—”

“has nothing to do with this,” he interrupts again. “and will have nothing to do with this. these are my decisions - my responsibilities. not his,”

you hesitate but nod slightly. your bottom lip gets tugged between your teeth as your brows pinch together in thought, staring at where his collarbone sticks out slightly through the robe.

his thumb pressing beside the corner of your mouth slightly, dropping his chin to catch your eye. “what’s running through that mind of yours, love?”

lifting your eyes, you release the hold on your bottom lip. “do you really love me?”

geta smiles then - truly - and it’s the most breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. “…i’ve grown quite fond of you.” he repeats your words, making your smile grow and cheeks begin to hurt.

[musedblues]

AMORE ~ FATI (part 1)

a/n: wait until the movie? nah. haven't stopped thinking about this freaky fucker since the trailer dropped! eat up, babes. also the horny police called and there is a warrant out for my arrest.

description: after winding up in a crime related to the royals, geta strikes up a deal with you.

warnings: down right hoe shit, sexual descriptions, gruesome descriptions, minimal historical research/ distant memories from high school test, cliff hanger. MINORS DNI

Part 1 of 2 (at least)

///

The afternoon was like any other, the day your life changed. You awoke to an empty home, gathered your cart of crafts, and headed to the stalls. You sold your paintings there and begged the clouds to cover the swelter of the sun.

For your landscape art, you accepted coin. You accepted food. You accepted a jeweled ring that afternoon, just as well. An exchange like it wasn't out of the ordinary. You pawned the adornment for cash that evening, and made the trek back home. With plans to paint pictures into the night, to sell off the next day.

Your home was quaint, once big enough for two, now only you haunted the halls. The man you'd once been forced to marry had been dead for many months now, and a certain freedom was found in his absence. But a certain monotony about your routine seemed to predetermine the days ahead as far as you could see them. So, you painted.

As you fiddled with brushes and stained your grey dress with speckles of deep amber, a bursting knock came across your door. The guest gave you no time to greet them before turning into an intruder. Two royal guards burst into your home, shouting and grabbing you and dragging you away. All so quickly.

You went fighting. You cursed as they held you in a carriage. You demanded their silence broken. But they remained stone faced as you begged to know why you'd been abducted from your home. 

Your captors rode into the city, past the colosseum, right through the gates that led to the home of the reigning family.  Your heart hammered in fear, knowing what you knew about the rulers. Caracalla and Geta had only just taken over the reign of their father, their mother looming near, picking sides; as you understood. Since the change in leadership, Rome hadn't suffered en mass. But a growing dread hung heavy over the population, knowing the brothers were struggling to join together in power. Knowing their clash divided not only their power, but all of Rome.

You were grabbed at once more, forced out of the carriage and into the great hall of the estate. Gold and red statues lined the entrance. A plum rug stretched before your feet, a welcoming cushion as the rest of your senses were drowned by harshness. Before you, pacing near his throne, Geta waited. 

You'd seen him and his brother before, trailing behind their father at rallies. Lingering near the stands at games. You'd always let your gaze settle on Geta, if ever you'd seen him. You'd always been drawn to gawk at the trimness of his figure. The enigmatic expressions he would pull. The presence he commanded. He was easy to admire, from afar. And the towns ladies often gossiped of how alluring he could be up close, if they were lucky enough to be invited to do so. No one spoke as much of Caracalla. In his name, fear and loathing often followed.

With a glare in your direction, Geta ceased pacing. He nodded toward his guards to relinquish their hold on you.

"What is all this?" You demanded, refusing to bow or humble yourself before this ruler in anyway. How could you dare offer up respect when little to none had been offered to you? Geta seemed taken aback, for a flash. His brows furrowed and his lips parted in shock, at your boldness. But then a grin flickered across his lips and his pacing started up once more.

"You're in possession of something of mine, no?" Geta alluded. Want as you might've to argue, to proclaim your innocence, you were too baffled. What could he possibly be on about?

"You were seen taking a ring as payment today, at your stall." Geta boomed, voice filling the room, echoing off the tall painted ceilings. He started into a story, then, that made things clearer. You learned that ring was a family heirloom, stolen by a servant only one night ago. That he'd sold it to a carriage driver for freedom. You learned that servant had been slain. But the ring was still gone. And you were the last person seen with the distinct bluish jewel in your palm. There were many a shopper along the street market this morning. Several were looking into your stall as you accepted the ring for payment. You couldn't deny the action. But you didn't have it any longer, anyhow.

"I exchanged it for money. With the sellers near the river." You decidedly conceded. "I've got nothing more to do with this now release me." Your voice shook, out of fear for your fate, and anger for your circumstance. 

"Names." Geta stalled his meander, a few steps away from you. His dark eyes had cast across your figure before boring right into yours. You couldn't look right at him without feeling a shiver up your spine. And you were not about to let on that Geta had this effect on you. So, you cast your gaze to the hands at his sides, and scoffed at what you saw.

"Why? Are the rings already on your fingers not good enough? You cannot be allowed to want for what you don't have, if you're in possession of more than enough already."

"What's mine is mine! No one else's." Geta yelled, keeping his eye's boring into yours. His voice shook through the halls, and fueled your rage further. Your rage for your circumstance, and for that of this nation.

"Your greed shall poison this empire." You spat at the man.

"An empire I was born to rule cannot be soured, destiny has been at work since my conception and my father's before me." Geta grinned, an all-knowing sort of smile that was meant to belittle you, you were certain. But you couldn't be made to feel so worthless.

"We are all born to die, your highness."

"Your opposition will result in bleakness if you do not answer my call for this information. Give me their names." Geta shouted, still inches from you. Geta was giving you a chance to answer. And that shocked you. You voiced your opposition only because you thought you were surely moments away from being killed, and refused to die without standing your ground. But here you still stood. Geta was letting you. 

As taken aback by his patience as you were, his arrogance and demanding shouts were only deepening your desire to withhold. To stand resolute. Who were you to ruin some poor people's lives over a bit of jewelry? Your silence was deafening, each passing moment tensing at Geta's shoulders. You watched his jaw clench, you watched his eye's dance between your own. You smiled. 

"Get her out of my sight." Geta hissed, waving his men to capture you once more. You rolled your eyes as they grabbed at you. "Keep her in the cellar until she starts talking. Do not, however... take drastic measures."

You shot a perplexed frown the rulers way as he shook his head in your direction. A scowl turned Geta's lips down. But as he watched you begin to growl in unwillingness to go, his smile curled to life.

"And what of you? What punishments are you allotted?" You yelled as the guards dragged you away. Geta kept his furrowed smirk pointed at you, a puzzled sparkle in his eye.

///

The cellar smelled damp as it felt, your feet squelching along the dirt paths. You'd been taken past a row of prisoners, all in various stages of wither. You closed your eyes too them, offering silent prayers for their fates in passing. 

"In you go," A guard shoved you toward the back of a small cell, chuckling as he locked the barred off door. "When you're ready to talk, we just might be around to listen. Let's hope we don't forget about you all the way over in this corner."

How had you ended up here? Hours ago, you'd been at peace in your quiet cottage, paint brush in hand. Now you sat on a wooden bench, senses filled with cold. How were the gods so cruel? Why did you have to accept that stupid ring? Why didn't you admire it longer? Maybe you would've found evidence of its owner, somehow, in the royal gleam of the thing. Maybe you could have returned it with honor, the promise of your home awaiting you. But none of that was happening. Now, you were unsure of everything. But you weren't going to go down without a fight. You weren't going to rat out the innocent fellow you pawned with, for simply surviving another day of this confounding life. You weren't eager to play into the rulers demands for more, as if he didn't have enough. As if he deserved to be granted assurance when himself and his brother offered Rome none.

Hours must've passed. Guards floated by time and again, jeering at you through the bars of your cell. As they passed you by, the voices grew louder yet, giving other prisoners hell. You heard shouts and screams. You heard begging for torture to cease. You heard the stabbing of flesh and the gurgle of blood. You heard the quiet from your own cell. Why were you being spared of such treatment? Why was your confinement different from the others?

As you began to question your own sanity, and the fate the gods had in store for you, a guard was passing by your cell once more. He stopped there, jamming a key into the lock. This was it. Your turn had come. You braced to be berated as the man reached in and yanked you to stand. The guard demanded you to follow as he dragged you through the cellar the same way you'd come in.

Suddenly you were in the great hall again. The purple carpet like clouds under your step. There were servants arranging decor as if an event were to be taking place soon. Your observation of the hall was short lived as the single guard dragged you up a marble staircase. The home was vast, and full of well painted statues and portraits and windows. The sun was long gone from the sky. It had to be later than midnight. As you soaked up your surroundings and let your imagination run wild, you tried not to worry how you'd be executed. You tried to remind yourself that death waited for no one. You tried to remember the last picture you'd been painting, a field of sheep under a setting sun.

Your captor stalled before a great carved door, twisting the handle. Your captor dragged you inside. 

Candles lit a room with a bed in the middle, the biggest you'd ever seen. The amber glow of the space was welcoming, despite the terror that resided about your situation. Beyond the bed was a table full of wine, bottles of all sort decorated the clothed stand. Before the table, was Geta. His slump on a stool shifted when he saw you. Moving to stand, the man dressed more scarcely than before was slow to approach you. His expression unreadable.

"Leave us." He demanded, pointing the guard to exit the room. The man's parting left chills in his wake. What was to become of you now? What was this all about?

Geta did not stay still at your front. He instead let his head roll from one side to the other as his pace turned back toward the cloth covered table. Among the bottles of wine were a scattered few chalices. He filled one with a drink. And then another. 

"We caught the carriage driver who initially accepted the ring." Geta announced, back toward you all the while. You admired the tone of his shoulders, as one was left uncovered by his robe. The cloth stayed tied among his waist. "We also captured the man you pawned the ring off to. We have the ring." Geta continued, bringing both cups of wine over to where you stood. Ah, so poison was to be your execution?

Accepting the chalice in a fist, you stayed silent all the while. Geta locked his tired gaze on yours and kept talking. 

"The ring was my fathers. Something he left just to me. Caracalla was given finery as well, just for himself. We do not do well with equity, my brother and I." Geta raised his wine for a sip and kept his dark gaze locked on your own. His eye's were red from lack of sleep, it seemed. His eyes were bright, all the while, as they peered into yours. This leader had a way of drawing you in. This leader had a way of making you forget you were probably on the verge of slaughter or worse.

"And while this mission to hunt down the ring has been my mission alone, Caracalla's wrath has still been promoted since he learned something of our fathers had gone missing." Geta explained. 

"What's become of the carriage driver and the man I sold your ring to?" You dared to wonder. 

"The servant was killed as you know, by Caracalla's own sword. The driver has been exiled at my command." Geta said. "But the man you sold it too was killed as well, by my brother's guards. Before I could get to him. You see my wrath is often equal to Caracalla's. But my bloodlust isn't as insatiable. And I can see his way of violence has stirred fear among our people. Would you agree?"  

You had to nod. 

"I do not wish death upon you. Blood should only be shed in battles and in honor. You were a simple moving part. You should not deserve to be killed in the crossfire. But you should pay for stumbling where you dared not have stepped. Otherwise, Caracalla will catch wind that I let you slip away without a punishment. And he will do worse."

"So, what is my fate?" You wondered, clutching the wine in your fist, unmoving. Mind whirring. Had you really been shown a backhanded kindness by the ruler you'd always believed to be more unyielding? His already alluring nature becoming more attractive as you understood this to be true.

"Exile seems drastic, yes. But it's an option." Geta raised his glass to gesture, moving to pace before a cushioned chaise. This room, his room, wanted for nothing. There was space and comfort and treasure promised throughout its expanses.

"Then there could be a fine. You'd be meant to pay every fortnight." Geta reasoned drinking once more. Still not entirely trusting of your own wine, you rested the chalice on a nearby chest, crossing your arms with a scowl. As if this Empire needed more money. 

"I'm too poor to keep that up." You spat, expressing displeasure in your tone. Geta raised a brow and frowned when he realized your implication, how much work needed to be done for the betterment of the population. With a sigh, Geta cast his gaze about the room. When his pace turned naturally closer to you, his eye's locked on your face as a realization dawned across his. Geta let a smirk hint at his lips as his dark eyes glanced into yours. 

"There is... another way..." Geta implied something you didn't see coming. As the man continued his languid back and forth, his gaze stayed ever fixed on your figure. And you hadn't really been ashamed of the glances you'd stolen of his, this day. He was drawing closer, as if to entice you. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't have taken much seduction. He didn't need to know that you'd already been wondering what it would be like to untie the robe at his waist.

Geta didn't need to know that you were becoming less wrought with terror by the second. You'd hoped he'd never known you were afraid, before. But now, in the flickering candlelight of his lavish room, you saw him. The persona Geta had put on all these years, all this time, was just that. You could see plain as day. Geta was full of anger, yes. But he seemed full of so much more, to you, now, too. The man seemed to hold a brewing mixture of depth about him that felt so obvious all of a sudden. Now, more endeared to the ruler, and just as attracted, you made up your mind.

"Seeing as I have no funds... let's just get this over with." You sighed, feigning impatience for the wrong reasons.

Geta circled you, eyeing you up. You wanted to melt under how hot his gaze was. But right now this was all happening far too slowly. Your interest had skyrocketed. But your time had also been heavily wasted here. You had plans, after all. He'd held you captive long enough. 

"Sit down. I'm tired of waiting." You barked at him, shoving his shoulder so he collapsed into the chaise. Geta fell seated at your order but looked up to you with an irate sneer. An anger passed over his expression but morphed into curiosity in a blink.

"Seeing as to how I'm getting what I want out of you, I don't mind giving into your demands." Geta announced, as if to remind you he was the one calling the shots. You couldn't help but grin, struggling not to roll your eyes at the man's obsession with power. Humming so he knew you heard him, you settled either knee at Geta's sides. 

As the ruler's fingers reached to grab at your hips, your day flashed before your imagination. Funny how life worked. How days could be spent so monotonously for so long only to become upturned and scattered about the next. You never imagined you'd find yourself straddling one of Rome's emperors over a payment for your latest painting. 

Geta's kiss surprised you. Not the fact that it was bruising, and harsh. But the fact that it was. You assumed this would go quickly, without much effort put into anything besides a quick and vulgar shagging. Granted, his lips didn't press into yours longer than a couple minutes, before his teeth were digging into your neck. But the way his hands wandered to grab at your limbs and claw at your skin was a welcomed affection you had not expected. 

When you finally got to untie the robe around his waist, you couldn't help but admire the build of his core, the shape of his figure. You'd heard girl's oggle over the emperor before, he was no stranger to trysts of most kind. You'd heard girl's trade deadly details of their nights spent with Geta, his lust unbridled. But the sight of his body bare before yours was better than any rumor you'd caught wind of. 

As you lowered yourself into Geta's lap, he was quick to rock his hips against yours with force you had been bracing for. His grip on your hips threatened to turn you over, but you'd be damned if you let him gain complete control. You rose a hand to the man's head, raking a set of fingers through his hair. Your fingers curled to grip with perhaps too much gusto, and your hips rolled to force Geta back, more fully seated. 

You heard the man let out a hoarse curse as his grip lightened, as he accepted your dominance. Did this really count as payment if you were getting more out of it? 

Geta pushed you away when it was all said and done, a steady hand stayed holding your side as he nudged you off of his lap. You maneuvered to stand, adjusting the skirt of your dress with a sigh.

"I suppose I should thank you for sparing my life. Surely thought you'd take it. Shame our exchange has come to an end. Didn't quite feel like a payment at all." A daring smirk painted your face as you turned to head for the door. You heard Geta lumber to stand, perhaps drunk off wine and pleasure. His feet padded as your hand reached for the handle of your escape.

"What was the painting?" Geta asked, stalling your leave and perplexing you to turn to face him. He was shrugging his robe back into place with a raised brow. "The painting bought with my ring, what was it?" 

"Oh," You realized, pursing a frown. "I- I don't exactly recall. I do a lot of landscapes. Seascapes. Could've been anything like it." You noted. Geta watched you speak, mouth opened, stalled to say more. His tongue glided over the ends of his teeth as the man nodded and sauntered back toward his table full of wine. 

"My guards will see to your return home." Geta called, back facing you. You took that as your leave, anxious for some rest after exhausting your mind with wonder all day, and your body with pleasure this night. As you shut the emperor's door with a soft click, a gratitude filled your chest. That could've gone a lot worse.

///

The next day seemed surreal. You recalled the night like a fevered dream, like a plot from a book. But there were scratches along your thighs that reminded you what had happened was very truly real. You recalled the feelings Geta stirred in you with warmth.

You milled from room to room, mind in constant awe of the way your life had been spared. Since the brothers had come into power, so many senseless killings had been threatened and followed through. So much violence had afflicted common criminals and the odd person out of place alike. Was it more to do with Caracalla? Was he truly the more cruel? Did Geta have a softness about him? Or had you just gotten damn lucky?

You went about your daily chores and sat down to paint. Your art displayed sheep dotting across greyish green land. Your setting sun was in progress. A breeze flowed through the window, and you imagined it in your painting as well. A knocking rattled your door. It's persistence grating your nerves. Only now, at least, no one was intruding. 

Maybe that's why you were shocked more so now than before, to see two royal guards at your front door. 

"Geta is demanding your audience." One of them chuckled lowly before reaching to grab at you. He was too strong to fight off, though kick and yell you did.

Oh God, he'd realized he'd let you off easy, hadn't he? You should've pretended to hate rocking against his lap in that chair. You should've begged for freedom. Or maybe it was Caracalla after all. Maybe he'd heard of your involvement with his father's stolen ring and wished you dead. And these guards were luring you in with a false promise that Geta was the one wishing for a meeting.

While your mind raced, and the carriage took off into the city and passed the colosseum, you cursed the guards for dragging you away again. For being such fowl scum of the earth to manhandle women like they did.

It wasn't long before you were being yanked from the ride and marched into the great hall with that luscious purple carpet underfoot. Geta was there, assessing a scroll with a couple of servants nearby. His shock surprised you, when his glance looked up from the papers. 

As you squirmed against the holds the guards kept on you, Geta shoved the scroll he held onto, into the grasp of a servant. He drew his sword from his side, the instrument of war and horror blinding you in its brightness. The emperors stomp in your direction was quick, his footfall shaking the building and you to your core. This was it. This was your fate.

"Release her now!" Geta yelled, directing his fury to one of the guards at your side. Before the words fully formed from the man's mouth, either of the guard's grips had unlatched from your arms. You did not see that coming. You almost couldn't comprehend that his blade had missed piercing straight through you.

"You were gone for all of a few seconds before you bring her back here?" Geta quizzed, face red with anger. He held the end of his sword to the man's chin, forcing his footsteps back. 

"You- you told us to go fetch the girl from last afternoon, is that not what we did your highness?" The guard was bold in asking, though his voice trembled. 

"I told you to ask her to come. I told you to remain at her door in patience. And you dare drag the woman back in the matter of mere moments? With force? That's a direct disregard of my orders!" With speed that rallied a gasp from your throat, Geta whipped his sword to slash at the knees of the guard that defied him. The man let out a cry as his legs gave way, sending the fellow to collapse. Geta ordered the other guard to take the injured one to a medic and stay there until he was ready to deal with them further. His blood pooled and stained the purple carpet. 

"Why am I here again?" You couldn't linger in uncertainty any longer, once again failing to greet the leader without any respect of his authority. Geta plunged his red stained sword into its sheath as he demanded his servants get out. The workers scattered at the sound of his command, scurrying toward exits. The room was filled with quiet as Geta turned to face you fully. 

"I'm sorry they dragged you here. You were only meant to show up if you so wished." Geta's voice was lower, his rage subdued. He confounded you, the way he held so much darkness and contempt about him. The way he eased into constraint. These were not the stories you had heard. This was not the man described to you by retired servants and wives of soldiers. He was more withheld, before you. And it caught you by surprise time and again. 

"But since you are here now, and you have not yet raised a hand to lash across my cheek, I shall tell you," Geta went on, letting his eyes do what they had done before. Letting his gaze sweep across your figure. "I asked you here to present to you a proposition. An invitation to spend more evenings like the one we shared just before."

"You cannot be serious." You let a breath of a laugh fan from your throat. 

"I'm hardly ever anything but." Geta reasoned with a curled lip and a shrug of his shoulder in a way you knew was meant to get you to chuckle for real. This man continued to confound you. This man contained multitudes. How had no one else, in all their gossip, mentioned this?

"Is this more to do with payment? Did our exchange not suffice?" You reasoned, still uncertain of the terms in which Geta was asking. 

"I think you know exactly how well our exchange sufficed. Well enough for me to not have stopped dreaming of doing exactly that time and time again. I'm merely asking because I wish too." Geta was so close, his breath ghosting across your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "And now you get to decide what you wish. Who am I to deny you a choice?"

"What happens should I turn to leave?" You wondered. 

"A guard would take you home. And with fair treatment, I'd make certain." 

"What happens should I stay?" 

"A servant would take you upstairs. And your imagination could fill in the rest." 

Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your day to turn out. That painting of all the sheep and the sunset would have to wait another long day. You suddenly couldn't dream of plans outside of those featuring Rome's half reigning emperor. 

With a nod toward the door you'd seen Geta's servants go through, he grinned. 

With footsteps more certain of the direction of his room, you found yourself locked in there, waiting.

///

The next weeks were filled with plans you couldn't tell anyone without fear they'd think you'd gone mad. You spent days milling about the stalls to sell your landscape paintings, careful of the payments you accepted. You'd harvest the fruits from your garden for meals and wait until night fall, when your promised escort arrived.  

Nights were spent in Geta's room, on his floor, against his wall, in that blessed chaise. Nights were spent shoving the emperors head into the pillows as your hips rocked together. Nights were spent demanding he speed up and slow down at your desire. Nights were spent with Geta sharing wine in between drawn-out romps. You'd drink and laugh and carry on, a couple times until the sun peaked dimly into a new day. You'd stay drinking, sharing stories about where you had come from and your hardships. Things you'd hardly spoken of before. Things you couldn't believe Geta would listen so intently to.

It started off as only a few times throughout any given week. But at the end of those nights Geta would always ask about the next. You'd offer up a day or a time and he'd promise you that he'd see to it happening. He would pour you more wine and tell you the dirtiest jokes, and ask what pleased you most before those nights ended. 

But after a while, he stopped asking. And your escort showed up outside your door more nights than most. And it became a rather expected part of the schedule of either of your days.

This night as you padded across the purple carpet, following behind a servant you'd come to trust; a ruckus was sounding from the stairwell you headed toward.

There you found Geta and his brother spitting fowl words in one another's direction. The men were swarmed by guards, ready to take on any outcome of the boys spat. And while they argued about political things you weren't privy to the full details of, you understood they spoke their father's name. You heard Caracalla remind Geta that their father had decidedly upped Rome's soldiers pay to ensure their loyalties to the empire. You heard Geta shout something about how his father was dead, how the brothers needed to learn to ensure loyalties in their own manner. And then he noticed you had arrived. 

"Thank God." Geta seethed, waving his brother off, taking the stairs two at a time to lower himself to greet you. 

"For you, Geta, trust is easily earned, isn't it?" Caracalla shouted, still domineering about the stairs. "A bat of your lashed eyes toward any common whore and they come flooding through our halls." Caracalla cast a snarl in your direction that turned Geta's blood so hot you swore you could feel the smoke coming off him. With a decidedly quick hand, you rested your fingers to grip Geta's arm, stopping him from running up the staircase to rip his brother in two. You didn't care so much what Caracalla thought of you, so long as Geta's opinion remained unchanged.

"But my powers of persuasion are not so charming. And I must demand trust more harshly. And I must remain harsh to keep control. And I do control the half of this empire entrusted in my name!" Caracalla was seething, fists balled at his sides, eyes bulging with rage. You'd never known anyone to be fueled by such negativity. Geta had slowly started toward his brother, letting your grip remain on his arm. 

"We'll reach an agreement. But not till morning. Go back to your side of the estate, now." Geta demanded, taking the staircase slowly, keeping his eyes on his brother. The younger one stood shaking with fury as the elder led you to his room. Guards and servants followed, wordlessly seeing the pair of you behind closed doors. A couple of soldiers usually waited on either end of this hall, but tonight a few more lingered near in addition. These boys really hated each other.

Once locked in his room, safe from rage and question, Geta had you pinned against the wall. He'd usually greet you. He'd usually ask about what paintings you'd sold that day, or if you'd had any great stories of your family before they sold you to a husband. Or of your husband before he died. But tonight, Geta was ravenous. Tonight, he moved more accordingly to the rumors you'd once heard about him.

The emperor didn't fuss with your clothes. He didn't give you time to unravel his either. No sooner than his hand had crept up the skirt of your dress, was he rocking his hips into yours, pounding your back against the wall.

Your nails clawed at the back of his neck and your legs curled to flex around his waist. Geta was relentless as his body hammered into yours. He huffed harder with each new pulse and let out some cursed sighs when your teeth pierced into his shoulder, to keep from screeching all the same. You knew the guards could hear from the hall. But they didn't need to hear more than they had too.

His efforts had ended, his face stayed buried in your neck. But you weren't ready for it to cease.

"You think you're finished? You're only just getting started." You barked, pawing at Geta's head and forearm, shoving him downward. He didn't hesitate, his knees cracked to the floor with force you knew had to hurt. But he didn't seem phased. Geta seemed entirely entranced on bending your knee over his shoulder. Scratching his fingers along your skin. Burying his head between your legs. And he did so consciously, like a duty being fulfilled. He was relentless tonight, and you felt lucky to be relented against.

When your pleasure had ended, and you were left to slide from the wall to find footing, you found the wine too. 

"Well, I can't help solve Rome's problems," You began, pouring you each a drink. "But I hope I've just helped solve some of your own, your highness." You half mocked, but half spoke in well-meaning regard. Geta hummed somewhere behind you. His voice sounded nearby. But his hands fell to close the space between you, gripping at the hilt of your hips. 

"Dunno, might need to try a couple more times." You could hear the smile in his tone, and you felt his sultry chuckle against your neck, where he nearly dared to place a kiss, but didn't. Geta only reached ahead for his chalice, and asked about your day.

///

 You didn't need to sell paintings. You could've lived a basic enough life, fed from the food you grew in your garden, rested from the comfort of your own bed. Secure enough in your late spouses left over finances. 

You had known married life for all of five years. Wed before you'd even turned old enough to know better. All because your parents thought it best. They said you'd been sold to a husband to take care of you, in the long run. He did care for you, in his own twisted way. He kept you fed and housed until he died. And he left all his meager earnings to you in his passing. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you, for now, for a while.

You started painting when you moved in with him, to fill the days that dragged on so endlessly. You dreamed of freedom from the man for so long. And kept painting when he died, to fill those same days that were just as endless and a lot quieter to boot. He'd left you all alone in the expanses of the great wide world, yet freedom seemed even more unobtainable to you then, somehow. So, you painted. And decidedly started selling those paintings when the house filled up without room for any more of them. You kept selling them when you realized how eagerly peers bought from you.

You'd made friends down at the stalls. You found a quaint routine there, waiting in the sun to trade paintings for coins, and chattering with townspeople while the mornings stayed young. Bakers and seamstresses and writers alike shared your routine, all becoming familiar faces you were pleased to see each day.

"Goodmorning, you!" A trio of girls your age came giggling your way. Girls you'd invited over a few times. Girls you were happy to see now. 

"Listen, are you going to the games in three day's time? I'd like us all to twirl about the colosseum buzzed on vino, carefree!" The small brunette leaned across the table your art was displayed on. 

"She just wants to go to wait on Geta, afterward. He always invites girls in after the games." The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning against the post of your stall as you chuckled in understanding, and out of sudden apprehension. You and Geta agreed to your trysts because he trusted how discreet you could be. When you refused to bend your will to give the names of the people you pawned his ring to, he admired that. You couldn't give yourself away, now.

"But haven't you heard?" The redhead leaned in, waving you all to listen closer. "Geta hasn't invited any of the girls that wait at the empire gates in, in weeks." 

You'd often trailed in past that very line of girls in question, much to their growing displeasure. Luckily, none of them were from the side of the country you had resided. None of them could spread your name around in whispers, as they did not know it.

"I'm still eager to take my chances." The brunette joked, going on to beg you to come to the games at the colosseum.

"I don't know." Was the best answer you could give without disappointing your friends, or thinking up a messy lie on the spot.  

///

Another night in Geta's room was unusually spent in his bed. You'd been used to being forced against a chest of drawers, his voice growling in your ear. Or yours demanding the emperor sit on the stool before the table of wine, and wait in agony like a good, obedient, merciful ruler.

But tonight, Geta had you moving slower in his sheets. He'd closed his eyes as your hips rocked atop his, nice and easy. And when he reached to flip you over, his core pierced languidly into yours. His hand brushed across your cheek and his eyes stayed steadily locked on yours.

"Are you feeling quite alright?" You couldn't help but worry, too overcome with the silence that fell about the room. Geta had been resting at your side, his finger tracing the same pattern against your stomach forever.

"What if you stayed, tonight?" The ruler asked, after a while.

"You didn't answer my question. You realized, still confused as to what mood you'd found Geta in tonight. You'd been often surprised by his wit and his resolution. But this wasn't a way you'd known the emperor before. 

"You didn't answer mine either." He pointed, finger still dancing across the skin of your abdomen. You turned your head to find Geta's gaze. His head rested on a pillow at your side, his eyes rolling up to lock with yours. His dark brown stare was illuminating. His curls graced his head so delicately. His silence was so reticent this night. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had had any wine.

"I'll stay if you tell me what's going on in that head of yours." You shot a pointed look to the man at your side who let a lifeless smile flash across his lips as his eyes turned away from yours. Silence filled the room once more, but you got the sense that Geta was choosing his words a while. 

"Nothing... none of this is how I thought it would be." Geta spoke. You kept your eyes cast across his amber lit room, fixating on the pattern of the wallpaper. What did he mean? 

"What's this?" You quizzed. "Ruling an empire? Sleeping with me? Sobriety from wine for a night?" You tried to joke, desperate for some kind of clarity.

"None of it." Geta responded, his inflection implying everything you listed was weighing on his mind then. And that surprised you. He was always surprising you. Silence settled yet again, and stayed for a while. It was Geta who broke it, after so long. He sat up to meet your eye, searching your gaze before offering a nod. You nodded back, knowing that meant your promise to stay here had been sealed. He rose from the bed to dim the candles, and crashed back into it with a sigh. 

When Geta rested his head of golden curls on your chest, in the dark and quiet of his room, you finally understood what he meant. This was all very different now, than it started. None of it had turned out in an expected way. But you felt at ease with it all. You hadn't shared a bed with anyone since your late husband, and those times simply did not count in your mind. You did not care for that man as you had come to care for the one laying against you now. And that dawned on you in fear. But then, a realization that it didn't matter. Not now. Now, you got to rest under the weight of the emperor, for one peaceful night.

///

The next morning was bright and felt early in your bones. And it wasn't long before it hit you, the games were meant to happen today. Geta's stirring at your side was a relished wonder, as his smile widened to see you upon waking. But it all came crashing down as servants and soldiers demanded quick work of getting up and ready for the day of events. 

"It will be too hard to send you away now, with all the crowds starting to gather." Geta realized, peering from the window of his room to the public below. "I'll have some appropriate attire sent for you. You shall join us today." The emperor's smile was bitten back, but you saw it reached his eyes as his looked into yours. 

Things were shifting with Geta. Night's were turning into days with him. Festivities were offered to be shared. You knew better than to ask. You knew better than to wonder why. You simply thanked him for his offer and waited for clothes to change into as the leader headed out of his room, yelling for a guard to hurry along and follow. You milled about Geta's room, admiring the wallpaper in the daylight. Admiring the stained glass of his window. You traced your finger along carved chests and bed posts. You dared to open a drawer, finding a collection of jewelry there, a familiar blue stoned ring at the front of the collection. 

You snapped the drawer shut in a hurry when a knock came across the door. 

"Hello." A familiar face entered. Julia, the Emperors mother, twirled in the room with a stack of garments. "These are mine from seasons past. I brought a few, just in case." The woman was dear, with soft curls that matched her sons, gold earrings that brightened her blue eyes. She smiled and introduced herself as if she needed too. For her, you bowed.

"Such a pretty thing, you are." Julia cooed, resting her clothes at the foot of the emperor's bed before turning to consider you. "I've seen you come and go. Quite the feat to boast over. Geta never struggled to make friends, not like Caracalla. But he has failed to keep so many of them."

 Julia kept a studying gaze on you as you thanked her for her kindness and watched her saunter out the door. The woman told you to meet the family downstairs once you readied yourself. That's when a certain anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. What was this? What had you gotten yourself into? Worry plagued your mind as you squeezed into a bright blue and plum skirt. The fabric hugged at your figure but fell so elegantly to the floor. You never dreamed of such finery adorning you. You'd never dreamed of a life so different from the one you'd been used to living.

Downstairs, everyone had gathered, gearing up to head out. Guards of every kind kept the ruling brothers on either side of the room while Julia flitted about, laughing with a man you didn't know. Senators and councilors seemed to mingle with the family just as well, their wives and children patiently lingering on the outskirts of the gathering. 

When Julia found you descending the stairs her first greeting after a smile was to tell you how perfectly the dress fit, how powerful you seemed entering the room. She said you held a certain presence about you, keeping a watchful eye on your expression as you gushed to thank her for such continued kindness.

And then you were off, trailing with the wives and the children of the party as the royal family presented themselves before the public. They were loved and hated so that the cheers and boo's from the crowd muddled together in an indistinguishable roar. Your heart pounded to realize how close you were to the action of the day, to realize how viscerally the opinion of the public mattered to the fate of the royals.

You watched Caracalla pull some face, pointing a finger at a citizen who cursed his name on the families walk toward the colosseum. You watched women line themselves along the path Geta walked, his politics be damned. You watched as he turned to look back, smile stretching wider as his eyes found yours. You watched then, as Julia stalled to join your side, and failed to calm the quickening of your heart as she held your arm to walk with you. None of this was how it used to be.

The woman leaned in, explaining exactly how today's games were meant to go. She yammered about the history of it all and pulled a few giggles from your throat as she threw in some personal deadly details about old games she'd bore witness too.

Once you'd all reached the colosseum, the brothers were ushered off to find their royal box, while Julia strategically placed you just outside of there. She frowned when she reminded you could not be allowed to join them further than here, but smiled when she hoped you'd enjoy the day's events. You watched her saunter off, stopping a guard and pointing in your direction before she disappeared in the box all the while. The guard locked his gaze with yours, offering a respectful nod as you considered your surroundings. 

All kinds of vendors and stalls were open around every entrance of the arena. All kinds of people wandered about, sampling food and drink, playing cards at tables until the event's kicked off. You decidedly began to wander about, accepting free samples and smiling to people you'd seen in passing. You shielded your eyes from the sun and noticed that guard trailing nearby, keeping a steady eye on your every move. 

When the crowds began to clamor toward the inside of the arena, you realized the games were about to begin. You downed a free sample of wine and found your way to watch from afar. Caracalla and Geta were announced in, and greeted with that same muddled roar of praise and disregard. You watched as Geta ate up the attention. You watched as Caracalla fought against it, spitting and arguing with some poor guard in the box. There was something so volatile in the air, as if one wrong move from either of the emperors would unleash havoc. The public was only one excitable realization away from realizing their joined forces could rip the royals from limb to limb. Geta was quick to shift focus to the games, demanding the publics energy be reserved for the battles that were begun, turning the spotlight away from himself. It was a tactical move, but you worried if he and his brother did not change the course of their political actions soon, no amount of pantomime could save them.

Another few swallows of wine helped ease your nerves, all the while. You'd forgotten how on edge the public had only just seemed. You'd been entranced by Geta's presence even from so many miles away. His distraction's had worked wonders on the crowd, his excitable reactions to the winners and losers kept the arena entertained for the better, for now. He kept you entertained all the while. When he would tear his gaze from the games every once and a while, you liked to imagine he was looking for wherever you might've been.

When you wandered off to find more wine, the guard that had been following you stayed back, glued to the battle that was happening. You returned with two cups, to share. The guard tried to deny your kindness but caved with a smile at your insistence to have at least one drink. It was a day of festivities after all. 

"We thought you weren't going to make it!" A voice familiar echoed over your ear. Turning from the view of the battle, you found your friends. You chuckled as you greeted the small brunette, buzzed enough off wine to shrug your nerves away. You couldn't exactly explain how you ended up here, to them. Or how you'd come to dress so finely. But they didn't pester you too much about it, drunk all the same. The girls swarmed you with giggles and hello's and how are you's. 

"Change your mind, have you?" The blonde teased, raising her brow at you. But your mind was too slow to understand why. 

"This is the gate the royals always leave from. Isn't it obvious?" The small brunette pointed, waving her hand to gesture around. When you glanced up, you noticed a particularly increasing population of young women that had begun to collect around the area. Geta always famously exited from this path, and always famously collected a girl or two to follow him back to the royal hall.

"Oh, no, I just sort of-" You stumbled over words, "ended up on this side." How were you to explain this all away? "I actually... should be going now that it's nearing an end. Get home before sun set." This reason sounded good enough in your head to speak aloud, as you began to walk backward, waving to your friends all the while. You spun on your heels, anxious to get away, making up your mind to head home should that be your only sound escape. But you'd barely walked a dozen paces before that guard was gliding close and halting your leave.

"You're not to go. I'm to see you united with her highness when she passes through that exit."

"Is- is that what she ordered?" You asked meekly, looking up to the roman soldier who loomed over you with his bulky build, yet kind eyes. The man did not speak, but lifted a hand to spin you around by the shoulder, placing a gentle palm there to guide you back where you came from. You saw your friends notice, perplexed gaze's settled on your march as you stepped closer to where they'd stayed waiting.

Caracalla was the first one to storm through the arched entrance, scowling at you on his storm toward his chariot. But then, a spectator, too drunk for his own good, began to slur insults to the emperor. The fellow had barely began cursing Caracalla's name, before the ruler stepped close to grab the man by his throat, strong enough to lift him to the tips of his dirty toes. The citizen struggled to breathe, squirming for relief. Caracalla shouted in the man's face, something about knowing better. The ruler let go, the citizen dropped to the floor in a rattled gasp. When Caracalla demanded the guards that followed him, to slaughter the citizen still choking for breath on the ground, you'd had enough.

"Do not do that. Have you such little mercy?" It wasn't to be helped, the way your body and mind worked together to force out a shout. You should have been more afraid of the way Caracalla turned to fix his fiery gaze on you. But rage at the senseless violence was all you could feel. Yet, the guards were already slashing their swords at the belly of the the citizen, so he might suffer still before passing. 

Caracalla stood considering you, longer than you expected. The crowds fell silent, the only noises were the hoarse cries from the dying man. And your heart hammering in place. 

Caracalla moved his look from you, to the guard steady at your side, and back to you. His head shook, and a scoff left his throat. He turned to leave, kicking the man he'd murdered on his exit. Your body shook with panic. Your stomach churned at the realization that you'd escaped yet another royal execution. 

The crowds parted to let Caracalla pass, steering clear of the angry little man. Your friends seemed to think of walking closer to where the guard had stalled you to wait. But their confounded and horrified expressions morphed into something more wonder filled, as their collective eye unfocused from your position. 

You were too busy assessing your friend's questioning gazes to see he'd appeared. But instead, you heard Geta's voice in your ear. 

"I'd say you're lucky he spared you. But I think there are more powerful forces than luck working on your side."  You heard him say. Your friend's gazes had no doubt been locked on the emperor, but soon fell more perplexed onto you, yet again. And then you realized everyone's eyes had shifted to you. The entire crowd that had watched you speak against the vindictive leader just ahead. The same crow that had pushed closer to wait for a scrap of attention from the man that spoke to only you, now, was casting a collective stupefied glare right at you. 

"I'd like to take you away now, but I'll have you wait on my mother. She hasn't stopped bringing up your name since this day has begun." Geta stayed speaking lowly, and you nodded to assure you understood, keeping your nervous gaze cast on the crowd that had fixated their attentions on you. "Do not worry though, tonight we can debrief in more ways than one." 

You had to turn and grin at him then, pleased to see he'd waited to share a smirk with you. He was off no sooner though, parting through the crowd with little acknowledgement their way. Your friends kept their slack jawed gazes set on you as you wondered for a beat about saying something to them. But then Julia was sweeping you away, resting her clutch at the bend of your arm like she'd done before.

They watched you leave, just as everyone had. You shot your friends a quick shrug and an expression you hoped they'd understand meant you'd catch them all up later, if ever you could dream up a good enough fib.

Unlike your journey here, Julia asked all about you on your trek back. You gave thoughtful answers, not daring to spare the truth of your meager life to the woman, but hoping the way you spoke of it would endear you to her somehow. It wasn't like you needed to be adored by Julia. But you did long to be respected in some basic human way, by the royal woman.

///

That evening went on strangely. Caracalla locked himself away in the furthest parts of the halls. No one dared speak about him in his absence. No one had dared to allude to his fury or righteousness at all. Instead, the tone of the evening was rather merry. You shared a meal with a mile long table of strangers, glad all the while to have been welcomed in the celebrations of the day. You gabbed with socialites and senators alike, until one by one they headed for home and bed. Try as you might to take your leave, Julia would not let you. She only kept dragging you from guest to guest to introduce. Until you were the last one standing. Until even Julia had made her exit from the room, Geta too. Leaving you to wait in the parlor until further command. 

A pair of guards stood unmoving near the doors, as you sat at the head of the dirty table. There were plates and glasses and saucers left awry, covered in crumbs for the kitchen maids to come and handle. There was a steady crackling fire on the opposite end of the room. There was wallpaper that didn't put your senses at ease the way the kind in Geta's room often had.

When the sound of the door opening stirred you from blank thoughts, you shifted to stand. Julia was easing into the room, smile and curls soft as ever. Eye's full of a certain kind of knowing. Behind her, Geta followed. His mother spoke your name, as if to grab your attention, as if she didn't already have it. 

"You're not to return home." The woman began, gliding to stall before you. Geta shouldered past her, moving to stand at your side and watching as his mother spoke. "I've noticed you come and go, as I mentioned." Julia went on. "And I've noticed how my son has been less fraught, during the time you've been around. I've heard you speak, and I've seen you command a presence in any room you enter."  

"What are you on about? What is this?" Geta demanded, that brooding gaze of his beginning to darken as understanding evaded him. 

"As good as she has been for you, son, I'm certain she'll benefit our empire just as well." Julia glanced to Geta before her gaze settled unmovably on yours. Your chest filled with the weight of a realization. Your mind buzzed with wonders of her implications. "You will marry in two days time. Enough to spread the news across the public, and plan something grand."

"Marry?" You breathed, feeling your heart hammer in your stomach. 

"You actually don't-" Geta began.

"I actually am watching this empire teeter on the edge of collapse." Julia interrupted Geta, causing his jaw to clench and his brow to darken further than before. "If we do not start moving more intentionally in the direction of change, you and your brother will ruin everything. If you marry this girl, you will marry someone from the very public you've been so often accused of dismissing. This girl is clearly capable of not only earning our family greater public favor. But she would be your bride, and you two together would have a better chance of making sense of this empire than your brother. Caracalla cannot be allowed to overpower your rule, Geta. Do you realize how close that idea is to becoming our reality?" Julia was insistent. "You do not have a choice. This has to happen. For all our fates." She was looking right at you again.

You were shaken, stunned, totally unprepared. Just days ago you were living such a carefree reality, all you knew were paints and pleasure by way of the emperor's hands. But now all of a sudden, all of Rome's fate depended on if you stayed standing here or made a break to sprint for the door.

"Get out." Geta pointed, coldly dismissing his mother. She began to argue back, pleading his name to listen. "Get out! I command it!" Geta was fuming, rage becoming his entire essence. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut at the boom of his voice. You heard a guard approach to see the royal mother out of the door. She went without a fight, but insisted Geta had no choice, insisting she was already making plans to assure this fate for the both of you. As one guard saw her out of the room, the other followed, leaving you and Geta alone in the room with the ugly wallpaper.

The fire stayed crackling in the corner. The table stayed dirty. Geta began to pace, like he did, hands on his hips, head shaking in an effort to make sense of things. 

"You are quiet." He spoke up, softer than he had spoken all night.

"I am choiceless." You warbled. Hadn't this already happened to you? Hadn't you already been forced to wed a man for the betterment of some kind of future? You thought you'd already paid your dues. You thought freedom was supposed to be promised at some point. You thought you'd had it, just days ago. But even still you were captured by the powers that be. It wasn't like you were opposed to being Geta's bride. But you were rocked to realize it didn't matter what you wanted, in this life. It was just going to keep happening to you, against you, despite you.

You watched as Geta sped up his pace, thinking. His eyes danced as if to keep up with an invisible coming together idea. And then his moving stalled. He rolled his shoulders and let his eyes rake up your figure, like they so often did. Geta's brown stare bore into yours, as if to search for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You claim to have been born to die." Geta gestured, sauntering closer. "I claim to have been born to rule. But we have failed to consider what there could be to live for. I have reason to believe my answer to living lies within you." His speech was imploring. He meant it. He only ever spoke with authority, by that you weren't surprised. But by his meaning, by the tenderness in it, you were. "As ruler, I shall make the final decision regarding my mother's demands. But... I shall also wait here in silence as you choose your fate. I will command no guard after you should you flee. This time, this wedding, you'll be allowed to choose."

"Should I flee, will there be fines? Will I forever be in your debt somehow?"

"I shall see to it that you owe nothing to this empire if you leave it. But you must leave it entirely, you must go far from here. It's the only way I could make these guarantees."

"Should I stay..."

Geta loomed closer, until his breath fanned across your face. So close you could see the golds speckled across the brown of his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"I would see to your value." Geta breathed, stalling an inch before you. "Your profile on coins. Your voice heard above others. Your throne... My bed... I'd see to it."

Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since this conversation spun to life. But it beat harder yet, at Geta's tone and implication now.

"Take my hand." Geta held an open face palm before you. "Or turn away." You glanced to the door. 

You considered all that lie beyond it, the quiet, the vastness. The race to the finish line of life would be slow and steady outside these doors. Your freedom would be quiet and lonely. Then you turned to Geta and saw a different kind of future to consider. And then a thought dawned on you. What if the freedom you'd always been in search of, was not just yours alone? What if an entire empires fate had always been pressed into the back of your heart, clear in the front of your mind only now that you understood everything Julia had said. You thought of your latest painting. The one with the sheep and the sunset. You wondered if maybe it was a sunrise all along. 

Your hand flexed, knuckles deciding between clenching and raising up. Until suddenly your palm was in Getas. Until suddenly your fate, and all of Rome's, had been sealed.

///

Part 2 Coming Soon...

[multific]

A Father’s Devotion

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: Your pregnancy brought along new worries. But deep down, under the worry and uncertainty, your husband was thrilled to have a child with you.

When you told Geta that you were expecting, his reaction was one you’d never forget.

He stood frozen for a moment, his hands hovering in hesitation before finally resting gently on your shoulders.

“A child,” he repeated softly as if the words carried the weight of the world. Then, a rare smile broke across his face, and he pulled you into a warm hug. “Our child,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Happiness flows through both of you.

From that day on, Geta’s attentiveness bordered on obsessive.

He made sure your every need was met, from fresh fruits delivered daily to arranging the softest pillows for your comfort.

He refused to let you walk alone, always by your side and always watching over you.

“Should you even be climbing these steps?” he’d ask, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the staircase as if it posed some hidden danger. As if the stairs would somehow move on their own just to hurt you.

“I’ve been climbing these exact steps every day, Geta,” you’d reply with a small laugh.

“Yes, but now you carry our future,” he’d insist, his tone a mix of humour and genuine concern.

As your belly grew, so did his worries and his obsession deepened.

He spent long evenings learning about childbirth and asked for advice from trusted healers.

Sitting by your side, he often spoke about his own childhood, his voice tinged with both nostalgia and hope. Hope to be a better father.

But there was also fear. Fear of failure during which you had to reassure your husband.

When the day of the birth arrived, Geta was almost unrecognizable in his nervousness.

Normally composed and commanding, he paced the halls outside your chamber, his face etched with worry.

The sound of your cries from within made him stop in his tracks, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to barge in and hold your hand.

His brother was there with him however Geta didn't hear a word Caracalla said.

Caracalla tried his best to calm his brother. But his words fell on deaf ears.

Despite tradition dictating that Geta remain outside, he lingered close to the door, hoping to catch any words from the midwife, he stood silently.

His heart ached at every cry you let out.

How could he stand outside when you were in pain? How can tradition dictate that he mustn't enter? How cruel it truly was to hear the woman you love suffer while he sat outside.

Finally, the door opened, and he nearly slipped in his rush to hear the news.

"How's my wife?" he asked.

“A healthy son,” the midwife announced, smiling warmly.

Since he didn't get the answer he wanted, he rushed inside.

His heart nearly fell out of his chest with worry as he entered. His gaze fell on you. You looked so tired yet you were glowing with happiness. He almost didn't even notice the bundle of joy in your arms.

“Come meet your son,” you said softly, your voice filled with love despite your exhaustion.

Geta moved closer, almost cautiously, as though afraid the moment wasn’t real. He checked on you first.

When the baby was placed into his arms, he finally looked at his son.

He sat down by your legs, admiring both of you.

“He’s perfect,” Geta murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “Just like you, My Empress.”

"Congratulations, Brother!" Caracalla said as he entered the room.

In the days that followed, Geta was completely dedicated.

He insisted on being part of everything when it came to your son. He was determined to not let anyone else close to your son.

Whether it was holding the baby boy in the quiet hours of the night, soothing his cries, or attempting to sing him lullabies, Geta wanted to be a part of it.

It helped you heal fast but it also melted your heart to know your husband was so devoted. You feared he wouldn't want to even hold your baby, and yet there he was, softly humming a tune as he lulled your son to sleep.

One evening, as you watched him cradle your son by the fire, you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve changed,” you teased gently.

He looked up at you, his features turned to confusion.

“Changed?”

“Yes,” you said, moving closer. “The Emperor of Rome, completely undone by someone so small he can’t even hold his head up.”

Geta chuckled, the sound warm and genuine.

“He’s my son,” he replied simply, before reaching out to pull you into his arms as well. “And you... My Darling Wife, you’ve given me everything I didn’t realize I was missing.”

As the baby stirred in his arms, Geta pressed a kiss to your forehead.

At that moment, the weight of the Empire faded into the background, leaving only the love shared between the three of you.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[darlingsfandom]

Behind Closed Doors.

anon: could you please do a fem-dom reader x emperor geta fic please? 🙏

TW: mommy kink, tit sucking, cum eating! Not proofread.

pairing: fem dom x sub emperor geta!

Candlelight illuminated the walls of the room that you stood in waiting for emperor Geta. He had asked for you personally but this was not the first time he’s requested you, nor was it the second time in face he was obsessed with you so much that’s why you were standing in his room.

The door bursted open to reveal Geta standing there with an angered expression. You stood up to approach him as he walked up to you.

“Geta..” you tilted your head upwards instead of bowing to you.

“What is it you think you’re doing?” He asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about my emperor, I’m simply standing here at your request.” His hand reached for your throat but you grabbed his hand instead and pushed it away while giving him that stern look. “Don’t start something you know you can’t finish Geta.” You flicked your tongue.

Geta ruled over the Roman Empire with his twin brother but to the people of the beautiful city Geta was the more powerful twin who struck fear in those who dared crossed him, but not you. You never feared him. He was handsome that was true but he’s just a scared little boy and you knew it.

He stood toe to toe with you with angered fists. “How dare you! How dare you go around sleeping with other men when you belong to me!” He spat in your face making you laugh before you gripped his jaw tightly and pulled him forward until your noses touched.

“You have it all wrong! You belong to me Geta! You are MINE!” You pressed your lips hard against his making him melt. “Now stop listening to those who whisper sinful things about me into your ear, only I know what I’ve done and what I’ve done is make you mine.” You licked his cheek before gripping his throat. A smirk slowly spread across his face as you tightened your grip. Geta would never let it be known that you had control over him because how could he? He’s the emperor after all .

“If I am yours, then why are sleeping with other men of less power?” His words stung at your core making you press on his Adam’s apple before letting go.

“I see you have no trust in me.” You stepped away with a pout on your lips. Geta grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. The two of you were nose to nose. Your hand cupped his cheek and your thumb slid over his bottom lip but Geta couldn’t resist and wrapped his lips around it, sucking gently as he looked into your eyes. “What a good boy, I knew you could always be MY good boy.” Your free hand gently stroked his hair making him perk up in pleasure. “Don’t ever doubt me.”

Geta let go of your thumb before he dropped down on his knees. You untied your tunic letting the fabric fall onto the marble floor below you. His hands reached for the fabric before bringing it to his nose to inhale your sacred scent. You watched in awe before he did a double take at your naked form. Geta has seen you naked so many times and yet every time seeing you naked felt like the first time. He wrapped his arm around your leg before rubbing his cheek against your plushy thigh.

“Please forgive me my beautiful goddess, I have been mislead by false information. How could I have been such a fool?” Your fingers trailed through his fiery locks before giving them a soft tug. He yelped before looking into your eyes.

“Let’s not forget who’s really in charge Geta, if you want my forgiveness you must endure the pleasure that is pain.” You smacked his face hard enough for him to whimper and hold his cheek before you pulled back your leg leaving him sitting there with wet eyes. Geta waited until you signaled him back over to you. He crawled over on his hands and knees until he was at your feet.

Your legs were spread open as you laid on his bed. The sheets were silky against your skin, the best. You looked down at the emperor before placing your foot on his shoulder. Gets quickly grabbed your ankle and started kissing all around it before making his way up your leg, across your calves and inbetween your thighs.

“Eat my pussy and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

Geta kissed your inner thighs before trying to sneak in a love bite to mark you but you swatted the back of his head for doing so. His lips made their way to find your cunt and when he did he dove right in. The tip of his tongue swirled inside of your pussy making you moan. Geta loved giving you oral, you tasted delicious and the way you’d moan out for him was music to his ears but when you’re in charge… he loved it even more. Your fingers pulled on his hair tightly as you moved your hips up and down feverishly using his mouth for your own pleasure.

“Such a good boy for mommy.” Your words made him shiver in delight as he hummed against your cunt. “Now stand up and take off that robe.” Geta scrambled to his feet in excitement before ridding himself of the white fabric. His cock was aching, just how you wanted it. You sat up straight before licking your hand and wrapping it around his cock.

“That feels good mommy.” Geta whimpered as you pumped his cock slowly. You watched as his knees buckled while you teased his aching cock. You leaned forward to drool onto the head of his cock. The spit mixed with his precum made him slick. Geta whined as he started to buck his hips forward.

“No no, you hold still.” You hissed at him before smacking his cock hard. Geta yelped before nodding quickly before holding still. You stood up straight face to face before you gripped his cock tightly making him gasp as you twisted it slightly before letting it go, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing him back on the bed. Geta’s cock jumped with excitement as you straddled his lap. You sank yourself down onto his cock making him drool.!

“Best cunt in all of Rome mommy.” Geta held your hips until you took them and placed them on your tits. His fingers toyed with your nipples.

“Good boy Geta, playing with my tits, suck on them!” Your body bent forward so his mouth could reach your nipples. He eagerly sucked on your nipple while he played with the other one while you slowly started riding his cock. The faster you rode his cock the harder he sucked on your nipples. He switched back and forth between the two making sure to show each of them how much he loved them. Geta kept eye contact with you as you swiveled your hips in a way he’s never felt before. He gasped letting go of your tits. He admired how wet and swollen they looked for a minute until the feeling of your cunt squeezing him flooded his brain.

“Look at you pretty boy, you look so fucked out and yet I’ve barely fucked you.” Your words were making him whimper as he laid there taking it. Your hands wrapped around his throat making him grin as you rode his cock faster. You were taking him for that he was worth. Geta loved when you were his dom but only you. It’s you! All you!

“Don’t think I can last much longer!” He whispered. His eyes were rolling back in his head as he felt his orgasm building quickly.

“Don’t try to be tough , just let go.” You kissed his face before bitting the side of his jaw. Geta gripped your hips tightly as he came inside of you with loud whimpers.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He went limp against the sheets as he finished filling your cunt with his cum but the relaxation only last a second before you got off his cock, hovered above his mouth and made him eat his own cum out of your cunt.

“Good fucking boy! That’s it!” You moved your hips to smear your cunt over his mouth. Geta whined as he ate you out tasting his own cum. Your own climax was building as you held his head against your cunt. “Fuck!! I’m cumming !” Your orgasm ripped through you quickly . Your juices came all over his tongue. Geta could taste them mix with his and lapped hungrily at your pussy making sure to get every drop.

You pulled away before bending down to kiss him with your tongue swirling around his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you before pulling you flush against his chest.

“You maybe the emperor Geta, but I hold you powerless.”

[keeryhours]

the emperor’s love - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Main Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.

Part 1

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N:

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!

—

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”

“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.

“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”

“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”

“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”

You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.

“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”

You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”

He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.

Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”

You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”

A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”

He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.

He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.

You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.

The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.

Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.

It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.

Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.

Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”

You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.

“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”

He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.

“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”

You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.

He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.

He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.

“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.

“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”

Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”

“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”

His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.

“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.

“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.

“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”

Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.

He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.

These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.

You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.

“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”

You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“

“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”

You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.

“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”

“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.

“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”

Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.

“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”

[songbirdmunson]

Kiss The Rings- Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader

a/n: I struggled with this one heavy, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! hair pulling, name calling, basic p in v sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving) reader is just there to be used up, there is consent beforehand of course! 18+ only please! not proofread so if there are mistakes I apologize. feedback is welcome and appreciated! 💞

word-count: 938

Spending your time at the feet of the snarkiest emperor around was not how you pictured your life going, but here you were. Geta was hell bent on everyone knowing you were his. You’d managed to escape once and suffered the consequences, so now you accepted your fate. Maybe you even were starting to like it but you would never let that be known.

“Cmon, you can do so much better than that with that slut mouth, I said, kiss them.” The crazed look in Geta’s eyes made you want to hide and offer yourself up for him at the same time as you sat at his feet. A vile smirk was plastered on his lips as he held his hand out in front of your face. The rings on his fingers were sparkling from the rays of sun peeking through the windows. “Anything for you.” You breathe out, internally rolling your eyes before leaning down and kissing each of his rings.

A sound rumbled out around you, it should’ve been a laugh but it sounded more feral than anything else. “That’s it pet. Look at you, you’re certainly a pathetic creature, sitting on your knees and doing whatever I tell you.” Your face was hot as he degraded you, the words flowing out of his mouth causing a pit to form in your stomach and a wetness between your thighs. “I bet you’d love for me to split you open right now, wouldn’t you?” Everything in you was screaming yes, your heart beating harder as you slowly looked up at him, his eyelids heavy with lust as he scowls down at you.

You slowly open your mouth up for him as he taps the pads of his fingers against your mouth, he slides them in quickly, causing you to gag a little as drool runs around them and down your chin. The salty taste of his skin was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and even though he could be harsh, you would do anything for a taste. “I think we should get some others in here to watch don’t you?” He asks, his fingers fucking your mouth, slowly picking up the pace until they’re going down your throat.

You hum around them, a gargled jumbled mess that made no sense but he knew what you were trying to say. He laughs before slowly pulling his hand away from you, pieces of his clothing slowly falling to the floor below you. “Changed my mind, not today, but maybe if you’re good enough for me I’ll consider letting your favorite general watch you, I know you’d like that.” Before you could say anything he was pulling you up by your arm, his grip around it making your skin sting as he dragged you over to a chair in the room. “Bend over for me, now.” He snarls, pushing down on the middle of your back, your hands gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard you may have splinters later.

“What a good little servant. Tell me you love it baby, tell me you love when your emperor fucks you.” He says, pushing your legs apart and flipping your dress up, he wastes no time before spitting in his hand. He strokes himself a few times quickly, spitting down against your ass and letting it run down to your pussy before he’s thrusting in. The stretch and burn sends your mind into a frenzy. You push your ass back against him as a quiet moan falls from your lips. “I- I love it, love you, love when you fuck me please sir, please.” You babble, his hand twists up in your hair, he pulls on it so hard you’re sure he’s actually pulling some hair out, but you didn’t care. He could feel you pulsing around him at his rough actions.

Loud smacks ring throughout the room as one of Geta’s big hands lands down against your ass, causing you to tense up. “Shhh, you’ll take what’s given to you. That’s for being late meeting me here today, you know better.” He smacks you 6 more times, before he’s roughly pulling his cock out of you. The emptiness you feel sending a bratty whine tumbling from your lips as he turns you around to face him. He makes quick work in pushing you down onto your knees, the dirty floor beneath you rubbing against them uncomfortably. Your heart pounds as he strokes himself in front of your face, sweat beads roll down his tone chest and onto his stomach, the urge to lick him clean overwhelms you entirely. “Open that whore mouth.” You normally hate swallowing, but for him you would do anything.

Your mouth drops open, your tongue lolling out like some sort of dumb puppy as he rubs the head against your tongue. The salty taste of his pre-cum overwhelms you as you smell his skin. He pinches your cheeks together, mumbling about ‘how you’re his favorite hole to fuck.’ Your heartbeat is in your ears, wetness pooling below you as you ache. You knew he wouldn’t take care of you this time because of your disobedience earlier in the day. He moans out a choked sort of sob before his cum is hitting your tongue, running down your throat. He strokes himself a few more times before laughing at the fucked our expression on your face, turning his hand over to look at it before showing it to you.

“Looks like there’s some left behind pet, clean it up.” He demands sticking his hand out to you. “Anything for you sir, anything for you.”

taglist: @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @multi-culti-girl @jasminelafleur @jamdoughnutmagician @munsongirly @littleredpartydresson @munsonmuses @pretty-batty @munsonburn3r @punk-in-docs @gri959 @ho-for-joequinn-fics

[littlexdeaths]

emperor geta x empress reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: established relationship, fingering, unprotected piv sex, period sex, blood play, light choking, geta (he’s a warning all his own)

this is really some very bloody period sex… if you aren’t comfortable with that, this isn’t the one for you. also shoutout to @strangerstilinski as always for helping me fix a few things 💕

blood.

it’s everywhere, covering his thighs and smearing onto the linen sheets.

you are straddling his lap, fingers curled in his fiery locks as he guides you along his thick shaft. his eyes are squeezed shut, mouth agape as his end draws near, so it is you that notices the mess first. a panicked whine leaves your lips, and you tug harshly onto his hair in an effort to stop this.

not wanting to be on the other side of his fury when he finally sees what you’ve done.

but only a deep groan rumbles in his chest at your actions, your emperor completely unaware of your current plight.

when you start to shove against his chest is when he finally catches on, his eyes snap open to witness your panicked state.

and then he sees it— the smears of crimson across the sheets.

his grip on your hips tightens immediately and he stops all movement of them. the emperor keeps you seated, with his cock nestled at your deepest point. the emotions that flit over geta’s features are hard to read, but there’s a fire engulfing his eyes. one you’ve only seen when he’s witnessed a man taking the life of another.

but the sudden tightening of his jaw convinces you that he’s angry.

so you quickly scramble off of his lap, pulling the bloodied sheets over your body as a feeling of shame courses through you.

“my lord, i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for—”

he grabs onto your ankle before you reach the end of the bed, and drags you back to him. the male then flips you over onto your back and hovers over your trembling, naked form. he says nothing as his hand dips between the soft skin of your thighs, gathering a mixture of your blood and slick on his fingers.

he holds them up toward the sunlight streaming through the curtains, admiring the dark, sticky substance that coats his pale skin. any feelings of shame soon dissolve into arousal as you grab onto his wrist and carefully guide his fingers back between your thighs.

his dark eyes flick between his blood-stained fingers and your face, a devilish grin overtaking his features as he watches those final traces of anxiety melt away from your expression.

“i’m not even close to being finished with you,” he grunts, greedily gathering more of the mixture on his fingers before they dip inside your dripping cunt. he pumps them inside you urgently, determined to make as much of a mess as possible.

the mewls that fall from your lips only grow louder when he reaches up to wrap his other bloody hand around the base of your throat.

and he eagerly trails his fingers over your bare skin, smearing more blood in his wake. and he doesn’t stop until you’re both covered in it, only then does he replace his dexterous fingers with his thick cock. thrusting back inside you like a rabid beast, aimed for the kill.

his dark gaze drops to where your bodies connect, each hard stroke covers the base of his cock in a creamy, pinky ring. an almost animalistic noise leaves his throat when your eyes meet, and the emperor pulls your body up towards him until your breasts are pressed against his hard chest. then his lips crash against your own, in a mess of tongue and teeth.

geta’s maniacal laughter fills your bed chambers, his ringed fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he bounces you harder onto his cock.

“only a mortal fool would fear a little bloodshed, my dove.”

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

FANFIC: LUCIUS VERUS X READER X GENERAL ACACIUS

Author's Note: As a test to see if this fanfic might appeal to anyone other than myself, I decided to share a preview with you all. If you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment—I haven’t yet decided if I’ll continue writing it. The characters do not belong to me but rather to the Gladiator II universe created by Ridley Scott.

one

PREVIEW

Gladiators fighting for their lives in the most savage of manners. The savagery does not startle you; you are accustomed to it. Your late husband often had to fight, quite literally, with tooth and nail to survive. He perished as he fought, dreaming that one day you both might escape. Left alone, hollow within, you were spared by General Acacius.

General Marcus Acacius delivered you from the fate of becoming a courtesan to Emperors Geta and Caracalla. In an act of calculated benevolence, he claimed you as his concubine (concubinatus), securing your liberty through this arrangement. For this, you harbor a profound sense of gratitude each day of your life. From that moment forth, you and the General Acacius have maintained the appearance of a romantic entanglement. He graciously granted you leave to serve as an attendant to Ravi, the steward responsible for tending to the wounded gladiators.

"I have heard that you are Macrinus' new gladiator. It seems the battlefield has taken its toll on you," you remark, approaching the gladiator. Hanno—that is what you heard him called. His blue eyes fix upon you, studying you as though he seeks to unravel your very essence.

"I belong to no one," the gladiator replies, his voice strained as he winces in pain. "But I do appreciate your company. Ravi may be a skilled healer, yet nothing compares to the presence of a beautiful woman." His words are accompanied by a grimace, his arm bearing a wound, likely inflicted by the blade of a sword. Positioning yourself before him, you reach for one of the tools Ravi uses to stitch the torn flesh of gladiators. With steady hands, you then lift a cup of wine laced with opium, offering it to the gladiator to ease his suffering.

The gladiator drinks the wine greedily, allowing the liquid to trickle down his lips. "If my appearance pleases you, I suggest you focus on that," you remark coolly. "For what I am about to do will bring you little satisfaction." Without hesitation, you begin stitching his wound, prompting him to release several groans of pain.

"You seem to take pleasure in causing me pain," he mutters between groans, a chuckle escaping him despite the agony etched across his face.

"Do not misinterpret me so gravely. I take pride in being of service to the recovery of gladiators," you reply while continuing to stitch his wound. "I lost my husband to one of the games orchestrated by Emperors Geta and Caracalla. So rest assured, my dedication lies entirely in aiding you." As you work, his expressions shift, the pain visibly dulling—likely the effects of the wine and opium taking hold. Yet, his hand from the uninjured arm suddenly grips your leg firmly, near your thigh. The gesture appears unintentional. You glance at him, startled.

"Forgive me," he murmurs, withdrawing his hand swiftly, your silent gaze alone conveying your disapproval. "I believe I lost control of my actions for a moment." You offer no verbal response, but the unspoken understanding in your exchange pleases you.

"There are rumors circulating that you have come in search of something," you say, your gaze lingering on the ring adorning the gladiator's finger. "I wonder if what you seek is vengeance—or perhaps a love lost." He lifts his eyes to meet yours, as though carefully crafting the right response.

"Vengeance for a lost love," he finally admits, his voice laden with the fury of grief. "My wife perished under the command of the General." The intensity of his words is mirrored in his eyes, now burning with a hunger that seems insatiable.

A fleeting discomfort stirs within you as his words settle. You owe much to General Acacius; your life, your freedom, and perhaps even a part of your heart are tied to him. He has been nothing but an honorable man in your eyes, despite his marriage to Lucilla. A genuine affection for him lingers within you, though you respect the boundaries of his union.

"Since you do not know me, I feel compelled to warn you—should your vengeance be aimed at General Acacius, you will find no ally in me. I am among the many who will not stand idly by should harm come to him," you declare, finishing your care for his wound.

"Ah, and we have only just met, yet I seem to have displeased you already," the gladiator replies, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "But allow me to ask—if you had the chance to kill the one responsible for your husband's death, would you not take it?"

His gaze is unwavering, piercing into yours. You avert your eyes, exhaling slowly before stepping closer to him. "When my husband died, vengeance had no place in my heart," you say firmly. "I was consumed with fear—wondering which emperor I would be forced to lay with to survive, or whose entertainment I would become. Fortunately, General Acacius spared me from all those fates and ensured I was kept far from the gladiator who killed my husband." Your eyes meet his with an intensity that demands understanding, your voice steady and resolute. He listens in silence, his focus unbroken.

"Then you are indebted to General Acacius," the gladiator remarks, his tone probing as he holds your gaze. You step away, irritation rising within you, though you refuse to admit it aloud.

"You could say so—I am indebted to General Acacius. Does that make you angry with me?" you ask earnestly, taking a cloth soaked in wine and carefully pressing it against the gladiator's wounds.

"No, I do not feel anger toward you," he replies, his voice steady despite the sting of the alcohol against his skin.

"Gladiator, you are ready to fight once more. Should you suffer any wounds in the future and prefer Ravi's care, I will not take offense," you say, finishing your work.

He smiles softly, gradually regaining his composure. "My name is Hanno. You may call me that, and I would like to keep you as the one responsible for my care." Hanno says, taking your hands as if in gratitude.

"I am Y/N, since we are introducing ourselves," you reply. "And since we are being friendly, I will ask a favor of you. If you plan to seek revenge, do it properly. Confront General Acacius in a fair manner, that one of you may die an honorable death."

You hold Hanno's rough hands, hoping to appeal to his sense of reason. "I will take your words into consideration, but I cannot guarantee anything," Hanno responds, his gaze never leaving you.

"I recommend you rest before being taken to your cell. Surely, we will meet again soon," you say as you step away, gathering the healing supplies Ravi entrusted to you.

Hanno bids you farewell, settling down in a corner of the place where you had been tending to him. You leave him there, knowing he will soon be escorted to his cell. Meanwhile, you make your way to General Acacius, as he often summons you when he returns from his campaigns, and you follow him without hesitation.

"Mea domina, I have waited so long for you to come to me..." Marcus Acacius' voice fills the space around you. The setting is a private garden within his residence, shared with Lucilla.

You approach him, adjusting the stole around your body. He moves toward you slowly, holding a goblet of wine in his hands.

"I had to attend to the treatment of one of the gladiators," you speak softly, drawing nearer to him. He extends the goblet to you, and you drink from it. Then, he rises slightly and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I have a wound as well; I would like you to tend to it," General Acacius says, his fingers brushing lightly against his lower lip. Gently, you rise toward him, pressing your lips to his in a kiss so soft it could scarcely be called one. It is delicate, restrained—you have no desire to overstep any boundaries.

"Our charade may now conclude, General Acacius. I believe any servant or guard lingering nearby has been sufficiently convinced by our display of affection," you say, fully aware that this romantic gesture is but a performance to solidify the illusion that you truly belong to him.

"Just a little longer, mea domina," he murmurs, placing his hands gently on your face and pulling you into another kiss. This time, it is more fervent, as though he is intent on committing the feel of your lips to memory.

[fel-09]

Emperor Geta x reader 18+

For a night with my beloved

Geta hurried to his room, his footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit corridor. His hand brushed over his lips, his sigh mingling with the silence. His eyes darted to and fro, taking in every shadow and flicker of light. Today had been relentless—demands, decisions, and the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders. He needed solace, a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of today

Pushing open the door to his chamber, he paused. There you stood, unaware of his presence, leaning slightly over the writing desk. The fabric of your gown dipped low, exposing the smooth expanse of your back. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a soft glow on your skin, which seemed to shimmer invitingly. His gaze lingered, captivated, his breath hitching as desire coursed through him.

Closing the door quietly, Geta advanced, his movements deliberate and predatory. His voice, low and teasing, broke the silence, "Darling, has something happened that you..."

Before you could turn, his lips were on your neck, his warm breath brushing against your skin. You flinched slightly in surprise, but his hands steadied you, wrapping firmly around your waist. His kisses trailed downward, tracing a path to your shoulder and then your spine, each press of his lips igniting sparks beneath your skin. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, the sound laced with satisfaction as he smirked against you.

“You’re utterly irresistible,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “I’d intended to talk, but seeing you like this... I don’t think I can hold back.”

His hands slid lower, exploring your curves as his lips continued their journey. You gasped softly, your body instinctively arching into his touch. The world outside faded; there was only the heat between you, the intoxicating pull of desire that neither could resist.

Time seemed to blur as his hands found the ties of your gown, loosening them with practiced ease. The fabric slipped away, pooling at your feet, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. He whispered your name like a prayer, his hands reverently tracing your skin as though committing every inch to memory.

Geta's fingers traced a slow, deliberate path along your stomach, moving upward to your chest. His touch was firm, claiming, as he pressed his chest against your back. The kisses he placed on your skin grew hotter, more urgent, each one igniting a fire within you.

“Geta...” A quiet moan slipped past your lips, your fingers tightening on the edge of the table. He paused at the sound of his name, a smile curling against your shoulder.

“You have lips, darling,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and teasing. “Use them for their intended purpose, or shall I make you?”

Before you could respond, he turned you to face him, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. He set you down on the desk, spreading your thighs with a commanding ease. His fingers trailed lower, brushing your core with tantalizing precision. One finger slid inside, then another, his movements deliberate and measured, stretching you as he watched your face intently.

Your body responded instinctively, tightening around him as soft moans turned to desperate cries. His pace quickened, his intent clear. “Darling,” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, “are you ready?”

You managed a breathless nod, your body arching toward him in surrender. The world around you dissolved as you fell deeper into his embrace,The feeling of him slowly entering inside was always like the first time, He moved slowly so you could get used to it, and as the night wore on, his hips moved faster, making you scream more and more with pleasure.

____

Morning came quietly, with the first rays of sunlight spilling into the room. You were still drowsy, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, when you felt a gentle touch on your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered on your skin, coaxing you to open your eyes.

Geta stood above you, already dressed, his expression calm but resolute. There was a softness in his gaze, a rare tenderness he rarely let others see.

"I have to go," he said quietly, his deep voice carrying the weight of unspoken words.

You reached for him, but before you could speak, his fingers brushed your cheek, and he gave you a faint, fleeting smile.

"Rest. I’ll be back," he added, his tone steady and sure, as though it were a promise written in stone.

Straightening, he glanced at you one last time before turning toward the door. Silence filled the room once more as you lay there, feeling the lingering warmth of his farewell kiss and the invisible thread that kept you connected to him, even as he walked away.

______

I still don't understand whether I wrote it correctly or not, but let's say it already exists